Style: Post-rock, post-metal (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Pelican, Tool, Vulkan, Oceansize
Country: Belgium
Release date: 23 April 2025

Growing up with autism, my relationship with the concepts of solitude and authenticity was perhaps unusual. Over the years, many people have commented positively on my authenticity in spite of the social pressure for conformity. Little did they know, however, that a large amount of that perceived authenticity stemmed from sheer social ineptitude—after all, one can’t conform to rules they are unaware of or neurologically incapable of adhering to in the first place. Similarly, the frequent periods of prolonged social isolation I have gone through have seldom been voluntary. Belgian post-metal band Capitan’s second album, Facing Currents, explores the emotional struggle of discovering one’s true identity through prolonged solitude and trying not to lose that identity when reconnecting with others. My autism has forced me to undergo this process many times, maybe even to the point of trauma¹, so while I do not relate to the voluntary aspect, I did find myself moved by the concept. 

Post-metal can be a fairly homogenous genre with many bands playing some shade of Neurosis and/or Cult of Luna worship: long build ups with increasingly sludgy riffs building in complexity with tribal drumming building to an eventual cacophonous crescendo—that’s the name of the game. Capitan are primarily rooted in melodic post-rock, but regularly get heavy and incorporate tribal percussion in line with the post-metal tradition. They also integrate psychedelic elements and some proggy transitions redolent of Tool. This leads to a familiar, yet fresh overall sound in a similar ballpark to the seldom-replicated Oceansize². Further brought to life by a vivid, crystal-clear production, Facing Currents is a very immediate album. Björn Nauwelaerts has an uncharacteristically powerful voice for post-rock, and his bright tone and melancholic melodies give the songs on Facing Currents a lot of memorable moments en route to the big finish. He can also belt with the best of the best of them, giving a lot of meat to the heavier moments; most post-metal bands would place harsh vocals there but with Nauwelaerts’ performance I didn’t even miss them!

Capitan’s lyrics are poetic not in structure but certainly in how they evoke mood and emotion, immersing you in the emotional state of the protagonist as they go through the process of self-rediscovery. Water, breath, and light are used as recurring symbols to express emotional overwhelm, suffocation, loss of identity, and healing. The story of Facing Currents is not so much about the events as they are about the emotions corresponding to them: from drowning in the feelings of isolation (“Immerse”), to feeling suffocated by daily life (“Choke”) and unfulfilling relationships (“Apnea”), to the confusion and fear of an identity crisis (“Facing Currents”), to eventual healing (“A Pale Blue Light”) and refinding one’s footing in the world (“The Ascent”). The lyrics are raw and expressive, capturing the protagonist’s emotional journey with striking vulnerability. Facing Currents doesn’t even necessarily read like finding new facets of your personality; its real beauty lies in accepting and finding solace in what is already there.

Clocking in at thirty-eight minutes spread across six tracks (plus the intro), Facing Currents is refreshingly concise for a sprawling genre like post-metal. The first half is paced effectively, with each track having its own unique identity and momentum: “Immerse, Pt. I & II” are built on hypnotic tribal grooves and psychedelia-tinged guitarwork, leaning heavily on the Neurosis and Tool influences, whereas “Apnea” is a more conventional post-rock/metal hybrid track, starting with a spoken word piece and somber vocals before gradually lifting up our emotions with ethereal strumming to prepare you for the thundering, heavy grooves of the song’s second half. “Choke” keeps up the momentum as the most immediately aggressive track on the album, recalling Cult of Luna in its double crescendo structure. The second half of Facing Currents, however, starts to show Capitan’s limitations. Every remaining song starts with a long, ethereal post-rock section that becomes increasingly indistinct as the album goes on. “Facing Currents” and “A Pale Blue Light” erupt into distortion at nearly identical points in the song, and “The Ascent” only differentiates itself by keeping the floatiness for a guitar solo crescendo instead of yet another heavy climax.

This strict adherence to traditional post- song structures ends up making Capitan sound surprisingly conventional despite their distinctive palette, causing the songs to become increasingly predictable as the album goes on—a slow, clean buildup into a heavier, emotionally charged climax works only so many times before it gets stale. That is not to say the second half of Facing Currents is without stand-out moments, though. The repeating vocal motif in the title track is deeply moving, and the crushing doom riffs of “A Pale Blue Light” are a welcome change in intensity. Björn Nauwelaerts also consistently stands out for his expressive delivery, even if his melodies become a bit predictable near the end. Another point of critique is that the crescendos on Facing Currents often end up being underwhelming. Take “Apnea”, for instance, whose guitar solo and eventual doomy outro do the minimum of what is required to make them work but nothing more; or “Choke”, whose second crescendo merely repeats the pounding rhythm of the first one with no variation or development. Similarly, the guitar solo in “The Ascent” has a beautiful narrative structure but is barebones in execution and finishes the album with a disappointing fadeout. I usually found myself more compelled by the journey along the way, thanks to Capitan’s unique mix of styles, rather than the big finish.

On Facing Currents, Capitan have made a refreshing niche for themselves. They blend genres in a natural way with sophistication to evoke an ethereal yet earthy sound with powerful, melancholic melodies and rich atmospheres. But for all its sonic variety, the album often plays things structurally safe, leaning too heavily on predictable builds and familiar post-metal formulas. Still, the foundation is strong—Capitan are never anything less than competent, and they deliver some magic on a few occasions. If they can find a way to support their unique voice with more daring songwriting, they might well become one of the most exciting groups in the genre. But such is the road to self-actualization: there is always room to grow.

Recommended tracks: Immerse Pt. II, A Pale Blue Light
You may also like: Riviẽre, Múr, Mother of Millions, Sgàile
Final verdict: 6.5/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | Instagram

Label: Independent

Capitan is:
– Björn Nauwelaerts (vocals, keyboards)
– Kevin Brondel (lead guitar)
– Rafaël Clavie (rhythm guitar)
– Jonathan Lievrouw (bass)
– Nick Boonen (drums)

1.  The Thought Spot made a great video linking autism to repeated ego death. ︎
2.  Seriously, where are the Oceansize imitators at? I need mooooooore. ︎

The post Review: Capitan – Facing Currents appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: free jazz, avant-garde drone, Hindustani classical music, ritual ambient (mostly instrumental, clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Sunn O))), Sun Ra, Ravi Shankar
Country: Belgium
Release date: 11 April 2025

Art is subjecti… shut the fuck up. My viewpoint is certainly colored by being a reviewer, but while the enjoyment of art is subjective, I certainly believe that there are objective qualities to the form. The Belgian collective Neptunian Maximalism (NNMM) released one of the best and most important experimental albums of the 20s thus far, Éons. While I do find it a pleasure to listen to on occasion, at three disks long and about two hours of free jazz/drone metal/ritual ambient, simply considering another listen sometimes feels nauseating. But removed from the plane of subjectivities like taste (preferring to listen to a shorter album, for instance), Éons is genre redefining, taking drone metal to the zenith of its creativity and then some. With several engaging and trippy live releases since then, the collective have released their newest live-ish work, La Sacre du Soleil Invaincu (LSDSI). Listening to LSDSI is practically a spiritual experience. NNMM lived in St John’s on Bethnal Green church in London for four days to integrate themselves within the space, to meld with its architecture and energy. Over the course of that stay, LSDSI was born. While it’s guaranteed to be a difficult listen, does LSDSI reach the objectively amazing heights NNMM attained in 2020?

Like Éons, LSDSI is an intimidating triple album comprised of three classical Hindustani ragas¹: Marwa, Todi, and Bairagi, interpreted by NNMM as “Dusk,” “Arcana,” and “Dawn,” respectively. Its music is ecstatic, thrumming with an indescribable energy; that NNMM were divinely inspired by their sanctuarial sojourn is clear, yet unlike Éons, LSDSI doesn’t wield a chaotic, primordial energy with brusque free jazz and tribal ambient. In place of the power of nature—Éons details an apocalyptic event—is the power of a deity (or deities). The Church-setting of the recording is translated by the Hindustani overtones—music for the soul. Meditative classical passages such as at the first movement of “Arcana” are not merely imitations of traditional Indian music; project supervisor Sundip Balraj Singh Aujla as well as the instrumental masterminds behind NNMM all have experience with the medium—I’d recommend Czlt, Hindustani drone metal project of NNMM’s guitarist, vocalist, trumpeter, and zurna and surbahar player, Guillaume Cazalet. He is a true student of the tradition.

Along with the Hindustani classical music sections, heavy guitar drones reverberating through the Church form the base of NNMM’s sound, upon which the collective painstakingly layer a variety of other instruments to perfect their sonic tapestry, including a diverse collection of Middle Eastern and South Asian instruments: electric saz, daf, zurna, and surbahar. LSDSI is improvisational, too, letting whatever divine muse resides in St John’s on Bethnal Green use them as a mouthpiece, yet NNMM always remain grounded in the ragas. 

Starting with “At Dusk : Raag Marwa,” the plot of all three tracks is unveiled—slowly. While the larger-than-life, rapturous crescendos, such as the vocals seven minutes into “Vilambit Laya Alaap” or the faster-paced metal in the second movement “Drut Laya, Chaotic Polyphonic Taan Combinations” in “Arcana” are divine, so many of the album’s hundred minutes are vacuous buildups serving only as a way to set the stage. It’s difficult to call them pointless; they have meditative power and are clearly integral to NNMM’s experience of the Church and the live performance. However, the length of time between noteworthy sections grows tedious almost immediately. The guitar tones are your average drone, and drone they do, typically without accompaniment from enough of the ensemble to maintain my attention more than a Sunn O))) album would. Even when the rest of the collective joins the fray, the result can still be incredibly arduous to get through, the longform compositions a bit too challenging. The second and third movements of “At Dawn” are incredibly satisfying when they hit, the grumbling electric bass and stoner-y guitar parts giving way to rapturous vocal parts; but I can’t help but compare these moments to Wyatt E.’s stellar tribal drone release from January which accomplished as much spiritually captivating drone… in a third of the time commitment of LSDSI. The highs on LSDSI match any drone release ever—listen to the buildup of “At Dawn” culminating in “Sthayi & Antara Composition”—but with so much empty space as a fan not present in the Church during the recording, the album seems impossible to approach. 

I don’t think that LSDSI is an objective masterpiece like Éons, and it’s certainly also a difficult album to turn on unless you like meditating to distortion—in which case, LSDSI is right for you. However, LSDSI is still worth listening to, capturing the energy and power of a spiritual place and only further cementing the group at the top of my bucket-list of bands to see live. NNMM are clearly one of the most forward-thinking groups in metal, and I look forward to what they offer us next, even if it’ll certainly be a hefty time commitment of ambitious and challenging music.

Recommended tracks: Arcana, At Dawn
You may also like: Wyatt E., Zaaar, Czlt, Sol
Final verdict: 6.5/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | Instagram

Label: I, Voidhanger Records – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Neptunian Maximalism is:
Stephane Fedele : Drums, Gong
Didié Nietzsch : Synthetiser, iPads
Romain Martini : Rythm Electric Guitar
Reshma Goolamy : Electric Bass Guitar, Vocals
Joaquin Bermudez : Electric Saz, Ebowed Electric Guitar, Daf
Guillaume Cazalet : Lead Electric Guitar, Vocals, Trumpet, Zurna, Surbahar

1. A raga is the underlying structure of Hindustani classical music, each one containing specific motifs allowing the musician to improvise on a provided melodic framework. The theory behind Indian classical music is vastly different from Western classical but extremely interesting. Please feel free to read up on it here! ︎

The post Review: Neptunian Maximalism – Le Sacre du Soleil Invaincu (LSDSI) 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.

Style: Doom metal, psychedelic rock, tribal ambient (Clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Om, Lowen, Earth
Country: Belgium
Release date: 10 January 2025

It’s the day after the 31st Akitu festival under the reign of King Nebuchadnezzar II. The image of the full harvest moon is hardly a blur in your mind as you reel from a sikaru-induced hangover, hazily etching a formal complaint about a shiesty copper deal into your stone tablet underneath a date palm. Your friend stumbles over his words to yet again tell you about the funniest joke he heard the other day from a guy in Eshnunna about a dog walking into a tavern. You look up briefly from your tablet to locate the sound of muffled yelling, catching a glimpse of a figure slipping into a narrow alleyway out of the corner of your eye. A guard approaches you, asking if you’ve seen anyone run this way, to which you respond, ‘𒋫 𒀠 𒇷 𒅅 𒈠 𒋫 𒀝 𒁉 𒀀 𒄠’. Perturbed, the guard moves on in his pursuit and you continue etching out your tirade. Welcome to Babylon, crown jewel of Sumer and the setting of Belgian psych rock outfit Wyatt E.’s latest release, Zamāru Ultu Qereb Ziqquratu, Part 1 (Roughly, Songs From the Temple Tower in Akkadian). Wyatt E.’s compositions explore Babylon’s seedy underbelly, chronicling the struggles of its captured peoples. Does Zamāru successfully conjure melodies from Marduk’s¹ towers on high, or am I gonna have to write another stone-tablet tirade to the gods?

With a droning psychedelic rock base, Wyatt E. incorporate heavy doom metal and a hefty chunk of modern Near East tonality into Zamāru’s soundscapes.² Evoking a dire atmosphere is the name of the game: compositions rarely focus on riffs, instead meditating on ominous ideas that build into unfathomably heavy climaxes, evoking the feeling of hostile forces lurking around every corner. Even in its quieter moments, like “The Diviner’s Prayer to the Gods of the Night”, hushed and tense instrumentation pair with the prayer’s urgent prose to prevent the listener from fully basking under the otherwise languid starlight. Second track “About the Culture of Death” is particularly cinematic in its approach, using strings and booming drumwork to lead into tumbling rhythms, evoking wide-pan shots of a bellicose ancient city.

Zamāru is bookended by two mammoth atmospheric tracks, “Qaqqari lā Târi, Part 1”³ and “Ahanu Ersetum” (roughly, “To Another Place on Earth”), with smaller tracks interspersed between. Both pieces start small with amorphous soundscaping and well up into gigantic rock passages, exploding with buzzing guitar drones that overwhelm the listener by sheer force. On Zamāru, however, it’s the small things that count: more concise tracks “Im Lelya” and “The Diviner’s Prayer to the Gods of Night” commit wholly to atmospherics while relying on engaging percussion and melodics to evoke foreboding ancient imagery. Additionally, these tracks feature guest vocalists which help to centralize and focus Wyatt E.’s ideas magnificently. “Im Lelya”⁴ features an ethereal performance by Tomer Damsky over gentle and hypnotic percussion before the track quickly escalates into fuzzy doom riffage, and “The Diviner’s Prayer to the Gods of the Night” gives Lowen’s Nina Saeidi creative room to channel an ancient Babylonian prayer through a modern Iranian lens.⁵ The end result in both cases is stunning, evocative, and appropriately grim.

In comparison to the fabulously composed shorter tracks, the more extended pieces are serviceable but ultimately not mind-blowing—their atmospherics are without a doubt enjoyable; the buildups are logical; and they sit nicely within the album’s setting; but ultimately, they meander for a bit too long and lose focus before reaching their ends. Although both “Qaqqari lā Târi” and “Ahanu Ersetum” have excellent climaxes, in this atmospheric / post-metal style of songwriting, the climax partially depends on a good buildup, and when we’ve arrived at the heights of these tracks, I can’t remember for the life of me how we even got there. I would love to see a more pronounced direction on the more atmospheric tracks in Wyatt E.’s future works, similar to Zamāru’s shorter pieces.

With stunning highs and still good but comparatively middling lows, Zamāru Ultu Qereb Ziqquratu, Part 1 is an effortlessly unique take on droning doom metal and psychedelic rock, infusing a tasty Near East vibe into its hostile soundscapes. Aided by talented guest vocalists, Wyatt E. conjure imagery of an idyllic ancient city with a seedy underbelly. Despite occasional flubs in the execution of longer tracks, Zamāru Ultu Qereb Ziqquratu, Part 1 will without a doubt have you saying ‘𒀸 𒁍 𒊏 𒄠 𒈠’ by its end.

Recommended tracks: The Diviner’s Prayer to the Gods of the Night, Im Lelya, Ahanu Ersetum
You may also like: Sunnata, Zaum, Neptunian Maximalism, Uulliata Digir, The Ruins of Beverast
Final verdict: 7.5/10

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

Label: Heavy Psych Sounds – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Wyatt E. is:
– Gil Chevigné (drums, percussion)
– Jonas Sanders (drums, percussion)
– Stéphane Rondia (guitars, synths, vocals)
– Sébastien von Landau (guitars, bass, synth, vocals)
– Amalija Kokeza (viola)
– Tomer Damsky (session vocals)
– Nina Saeidi (session vocals)

1. Marduk here referring to the patron god of Babylon, not the Swedish black metal band. ︎
2. Interestingly enough, the prevailing musicological theory is that the maqam tonal framework associated with modern Near East music did not originate in Mesopotamia, but was likely inspired by Greek experimentation in tonality. Additionally, the ‘classically western’ heptatonic scale is thought to have have been brought to Europe later from Mesopotamia. ︎
3. This roughly translates to “Descent Into the Otherworld”, based on a Mesopotamian story about the goddess Ishtar traveling to the Underworld. ︎
4. A reference to an ancient Hebrew fable describing four beasts which destroy four separate cities, one of which includes Babylon. ︎
5. I did a deep dive on this in my recent Wardruna review regarding modern music that takes inspiration from historical ideas, so check that out for a further elaboration of my thoughts. ︎

The post Review: Wyatt E. – Zamāru Ultu Qereb Ziqquratu, Part 1 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.

Style: Progressive metal, death metal (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: old Opeth, In Mourning
Country: Belgium
Release date: 15 September 2024

Cast your mind back about seventeen months. Omnerod dropped The Amensal Rise and 2023 was made. The unhinged Devin Townsend-esque death metal of these determined progsters went on to become my album of the year and made our overall site top ten of the year. Ubiquity is a project founded by Anthony Deneyer (harsh vocals and live guitars in Omnerod) back in 2015, in which he takes the lead, providing harsh and clean vocals as well as guitars and keyboards. Romain Jeuniaux (lead vocals and guitar for Omnerod) takes up bass duties, while Pablo Schwilden Diaz stays on drums for both projects, and a new face, Jérôme Blondiaux, the other founding member of Ubiquity, also provides guitars. Seven years on from their only EP, Towards Oblivion, comes debut full-length The Ascendant Travels Among the Stars on which Deneyer romantically reimagines the life of infamous serial killer Jack the Ripper in the Opethian style. Can lightning strike twice for the Omnerod boys?

Deneyer’s roar certainly passes the Akerfeldt test in its throaty power, and the timbre of his cleans has shades of Akerfeldt, Chris Hathcock (The Reticent), and even a little bit of the lower register of his bandmate, Jeuniaux. Ubiquity’s bite, however, is in those leviathanic harshes, and the overall vibe is a strange marriage of Blackwater Park/Ghost Reveries era Opeth to the dense, intense and angular contemporary approach of Omnerod, with those same bursts of theatricality, waltzing riffs and moments of unhinged heaviness. The mellower parts in particular often eschew acoustic guitars in favour of a marimba effect, speaking again to that Omnerodian quirkiness.

Indeed, the inherent theatricality of their parent project sneaks its way in often; particularly on the intro to “Endless Depths” which has a somewhat carnivalesque swing before erupting into a classic Akerfeldtian gallop, or on the waltzing verses of “Tree of Pain”. Despite the Opethian foundation, the guitar sound feels thicker and the organ is almost always bleating away to bolster the instrumental section; the effect is akin to a wall-of-sound, which speaks to the Townsendian elements underpinning Omnerod once again leaking through. Even in the clean sections that oppressive atmosphere from The Amensal Rise looms large; it’s almost as if Deneyer has made the album Opeth might have made had they only formed around 2020, transformed by the evolution of the progressive metal scene up to now. 

The Ascendant Travels Among the Stars is replete with standout moments, including a showcase of Jeuniaux’s bass work on “Red Moon”, more overtly Opethian galloping riffs and bluesy soloing on “The Traveler”, and a wealth of off-kilter organ on “In a Blink” which journeys into strange clean guitar licks over a quasi-funk rhythm. The loftiest star on The Ascendant, however, is “Endless Depths”, the main riff of which is probably the sickest groove I’ve heard all year; Diaz delights in abusing the ride cymbals with some sick accenting while the whole band gallop away with the riff, transforming it with little embellishments, even going so far as to veer it into a half-time metalcore breakdown which transitions so seamlessly back into the rhythm again that I couldn’t help but laugh at the audacity of it.

Lyrically, Deneyer finds an interesting way into the Jack the Ripper story, portraying the infamously mysterious killer as something of an alien, at best a human with faulty wiring acting on a growing animalistic urge to kill in the hopes of finding meaning in the act, and at worst a sort of void, an aberration with an incomprehensible psychology. The name gives it away, but death metal has an abiding curiosity with death and murder in all its permutations, sometimes plumbing rather grotesque extremes, but Deneyer’s take is thoughtful and eloquently stated, ultimately concluding, “And in the end, only a pit shall remain/A vortex in which hatred should be thrown”. Evil lingers, but its vessels wither and die.

My one critique in my review of The Amensal Rise was about production which occasionally washed out vocals and left the drums feeling a little disconnected from the rest of the band. No such issues arise during The Ascendant Travels Among the Stars; Deneyer’s mix judiciously balances all the instruments, while Tony Lindgren’s mastering (incidentally, Fascination Street also produced Opeth’s Ghost Reveries and Watershed) gives the requisite polish. It goes to show how these musicians are still developing and refining their sound, making leaps forward with each new release. 

Lightning certainly can strike twice, and Ubiquity manage the difficult balance of being a clearly Opeth-inspired band while not merely copying them, infusing that sound with their own trademark quirks, all of which makes The Ascendant Travels Among the Stars a pretty mammoth album in its own right. Unfortunately, the band announced that the release of the work coincides with the dissolution of the project—they are ubiquitous no more. Nevertheless, while not quite reaching the giddy highs of The Amensal Rise, this is another feather to the caps of these musicians who are proving to be some of the most exciting composers in the modern progressive death metal scene, and Deneyer can be proud of having brought his longtime project to rather glorious fruition.

Recommended tracks: Endless Depths, Red Moon, The Traveler
You may also like: Omnerod, Wills Dissolve, Piah Mater
Final verdict: 8/10

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

Label: Independent

Ubiquity is:
– Anthony Deneyer (vocals, guitars, keyboards)
– Jérôme Blondiaux (guitars)
– Romain Jeuniaux (bass)
– Pablo Schwilden Diaz (drums)

The post Review: Ubiquity – The Ascendant Travels Among the Stars appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Power metal, progressive metal (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Mercenary, Pagan’s Mind, Dream Evil
Review by: Francesco
Country: Belgium
Release date: 17 April 2024

It’s rare that an underground power/prog band really resonates with me when all too often their arrangements seem lackluster and uninspired; the lyrics trite, campy drivel. Yet against all odds, Dyscordia managed to take hold of my interest and keep it for (most of) an album. Their fourth release, The Road to Oblivion, with its absolutely abysmal cover artwork, proves the age-old adage of books and covers: it’s dramatic, indulgent, and theatrical, and a worthwhile listen for fans of the genre who are more into huge choruses and less-so the speed-metal-influenced shred style common in other bands of the same ilk. In general, The Road to Oblivion doesn’t try to reinvent the genre, but Dyscordia do expertly blend more extreme styles to keep the listener engaged throughout. 

Musically, The Road to Oblivion displays a variety of influences in the riffing, notably melodic and progressive death metal, and usually strays far from the tremolo-picking into one-chord-per-measure of many other power metal outfits. The songwriting effortlessly incorporates different moods and nowhere is this clearer than the tracks “Hell”, “Oblivion”, and my personal favourite – the instrumental “Interlude”. Without ever going over the eight-minute mark, Dyscordia proves their prog metal chops without overindulgence, clearly delineating the different movements that make each song sound unique while maintaining a cohesive sound from start to finish. One thing I think they stumble with is the slower, more melodramatic parts which highlight the vocalist and attempt to express a gravitas that they don’t really achieve. For example, the opening to “Hell”; the sudden loss of momentum at the twenty-seven second mark sounds forced and unnatural and sometimes these sections can break the flow of the album. However, I lay praise on their use of synthesizers to provide subtle background atmosphere, notable in “Toxic Rain”.

Lyrically The Road to Oblivion’s focus is mostly on the human condition and less about fantasy or mythological elements that prog-power outfits may sometimes choose to focus on. I think they can often be more relatable, and an interesting conceptual choice for this style of metal; for instance, the passage “… you wake up in the morning, and you wonder what you’re livin’ for …” in “The Demons Bite” is a type of morose sentiment I don’t usually hear expressed in power metal, but again, it’s an interesting diversion. The clean singer, Piet Overstijns, sometimes has a voice that is reminiscent of Ozzy’s, while the harsh vocals provide a welcome variance to the sound, complementing the clean vocals and definitely underscoring the melodic/progressive death metal influence in exemplary fashion. I wouldn’t mind more harsh vocal passages, or even entire songs with harsh vocals in the next release. I think it works really well with what Dyscordia are doing here, and in such a manner that wasn’t strictly the cliched call-and-answer style, so I do laud them for it.

Although Oblivion won’t make my regular rotation, Dyscordia did things a bit differently on this release that I was surprisingly taken in by. Their inclusion of harsh vocals, the clearly defined movements in each track, and the cohesive nature of the album contributed to a captivating listen that I was pleasantly surprised by. Still, I might hope for a bit more complexity on the next release. Maybe some true eighteen-minute epics that’ll really enhance my commute to work. Maybe bring in a keyboardist and throw in a shred battle or two. Is that too much to ask? But I digress. Well done, Belgium. Well done.

Recommended tracks: Toxic Rain, The Demons Bite, Oblivion
You may also like: Anubis Gate, DGM, Morgana Lafey
Final verdict: 6.9/10

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

Label: Independent

band in question is:
– Piet Overstijns (vocals)
– Stefan Segers (vocals, guitars)
– Martijn Debonnet (guitars, backing vocals)
– Guy Commeene (guitars)
– Wouter Nottebaert (bass, backing vocals)
– Chevy Mahieu – (drums)

The post Review: Dyscordia – Road to Oblivion appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: progressive metal, post-metal, djent (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Meshuggah, Dvne, The Ocean, Uneven Structure, later Fit for an Autopsy
Country: Belgium
Release date: 5 June, 2024

Opeth’s ‘The Leper Affinity’ is quite possibly my favorite opening to an album, ever. Now, before you say “Zach, please stop dragging prog-death into everything you bastard,” let me explain myself. It comes out of the gate swinging with an incredible riff and pummels you to death until about the 4-minute mark. It’s then when a beautiful, somber melody takes over just before transitioning to Mikael Akerfeldt’s incredible cleans and acoustic guitar. within this song Opeth set the tone for Blackwater Park, and highlighted the creative, dynamic nature of their songwriting.

An opening mission statement is so important in an album. While it seems to be cliché for a prog band opening their album with some kind of gentle piano, clean guitars, or MIDI strings, it’s because it’s easy and effective when done well. But I have to have respect for an album that bats me straight in the face without a hint of mercy. No lead in, if this first riff sucks, it sucks hard and you’ve practically lost any chance at recovery.

‘Descent’ wastes no time getting right back to where we left off with Hippotraktor, combining djent-y grooves with the buildup and payoff sensibilities of a post-metal band. You’re thrown into something that sounds Mick Gordon would write before throwing the nastiest low-tuned groove you’re gonna hear all year your way. The syncopated Meshuggah grooves are far more creative here than their debut, and this album does such a fantastic job at highlighting the riff writing ability of guitarist Chiaran Verheyden. He is one of the few guitarists I know of who seem to be able to make low chugs interesting, even after the oversaturation of djent bands we prog reviewers deal with.

Stefan de Graaf has quickly become one of my favorite vocalists, and he sounds absolutely incredible here. His harshes are some of the strongest I’ve ever heard, and his cleans seem to be getting consistently better. ‘Echoes’ is probably one of the biggest departures from Hippotraktor’s core sound, with alt-metal-like sensibilities interwoven into its DjeNtA. The chorus sounds something almost metalcore-like, but somehow remaining very true to the band’s core sound.

Something that I admire about Hippotraktor is they understand the beauty of simplicity. They could shred just as fast as anyone, as evident by the title track’s solo (the only solo on the whole album), but instead, they would rather pummel you with the layers of low-tuned riffs and beautiful electronic melodies. Hippotraktor play around with dynamics even more on this, using crystalline guitar lines when they need to calm it down before blasting you straight in the face.

This entire album is like having a ten-ton weight dropped on you, only intensified by the incredible production. Every chug and bass pick is weighty enough to shake your eardrums, and if the final drop of ‘Renegade’ doesn’t give you immediate stank face, then you need to get your hearing checked. One would figure that the constant onslaught of chugs would get gimmicky and annoying, and while I do agree I’d like just a bit more dynamics in the guitar and bass, I am amazed at the creativity on this album.

Hippotraktor truly lack identity, and I think it works in their favor. Not quite regular-joe prog, not quite djent, and not quite -core friendly either. Meridien had a sound that I’d never quite heard before, but it was still cooking in the oven. Stasis is the nigh-perfect result, even at the cost of a (dare I say), less heavy sound. Even as ‘The Reckoning’ ends, it does so on a beautiful guitar melody, not a crushing breakdown. Good of Hippotraktor to give the listener some time to catch their breath after blowing them away.

Recommended tracks: Descent, Echoes, Renegade, The Indifferent Human Eye
You may also like: Psychonaut
Final verdict: 9/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | Instagram

Label: Pelagic Records – Facebook | Official Website

Hippotraktor is:
– Stefan de Graaf (percussion, vocals)
– Chiaran Verheyden (guitars)
– Jakob Fiszer (bass)

– Lander de Nyn (drums)

– Sander Rom (guitars, vocals)

The post Review: Hippotraktor – Stasis appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Stoner Metal, Power Metal, Progressive Metal (Mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Mastodon, Acid King, Elder
Review by: Dave
Country: Belgium
Release date: 29 May 2024

Supergroups are infamously hit-or-miss. Even among groups with similar members, quality can fluctuate fairly rapidly: the new millennium brought us dad rock all-timers Audioslave, whose self-titled debut presented a killer combo of Rage Against the Machine’s groovy instrumentalists and Chris Cornell’s amazing vocal work, but mid-2010s RATM-based supergroup Prophets of Rage left me conversely disappointed. Cobra the Impaler, featuring members of Aborted, Megadeth, Soilwork, and others, fall firmly in the “hit” category of supergroups, as they wowed me instantly on debut Colossal Gods with the unbelievable opening one-two punch of the title track and “Blood Eye”. On Cobra’s newest opus, Karma Collision, does Karma Collide in their favor or will they be overcome by the Colossal Gods they once conquered?

Cobra the Impaler is quintessential “arena metal” – not arena metal in the sense of Bon Jovi selling out arenas playing “Separate Ways,” but arena metal in the In the Court of the Dragon sense, where the music makes you feel as if you are trapped in a colosseum pitted against an incomprehensibly large beast. A threatening and adversarial atmosphere is conjured through mid-paced stoner grooves backed up by dire and foreboding vocal harmonies, both incorporating just enough dissonance to unsettle the listener. There is also a strong progressive undertone to Cobra’s music, as songs morph around themselves in a nonlinear fashion, creating a winning formula around hooky-yet-unsettling instrumentation given interest through ever-changing ideas. Karma Collision scoots back the direness of Colossal Gods and gives more room for progressive experimentation – virtually every song explores ideas with abandon and many moments are comparatively mellowed out.

Unfortunately, this re-prioritizing has a detrimental effect on Karma Collision: the comparative lack of hookiness compounds unsatisfyingly with a lack of thematic cohesion on the more progressive tracks, and the overall mellowing out means a lost sense of that “arena metal” edge. Even if catchiness wasn’t a priority, Karma Collision could still be lauded as an interesting listen if there was a stronger sense of songwriting. “Assassins of the Vision” is a prime example of the more frustrating aspects of this slightly unfocused experimentation: moment to moment, the track is enjoyable with satisfying vocal harmonies on the chorus and interesting drum work in the bridge, and the new sounds tried out here are without a doubt interesting, particularly the Yes-inspired vocal break halfway through, but I struggle to follow its relatively nonlinear structure, and the moments are not quite catchy enough to stick from section to section, losing themselves in a sea of decent ideas. “Blood Eye” from Colossal Gods, in contrast, works from a progressive songwriting perspective because when it changes structure, it holds on to the refrains from the first section, both giving the vocal moments in the first section more importance in the overall track and demonstrating a relationship between the beginning and ending. I would have loved to see tracks more directly relate their otherwise disparate sections to each other or coalesce into some overarching theme, but unfortunately, many moments on Karma Collision prioritize exploration over cohesion.

I don’t want to give off the impression that this is a limp and directionless release, though, as there are plenty of exciting and compelling moments. The title track contains a thrashy bridge/solo that tastefully transitions back into the yell-sung “LIVE FOREVER” refrain over the chorus at the end for a satisfying conclusion; the opener “Magnetic Hex” has an infectious verse and chorus that tap into the types of vocal harmonies that worked so successfully on Colossal Gods; and “Season of the Savage” utilizes a spacious atmosphere alongside some of the best grooves on the album to create the atmosphere I was craving coming into this album. “The Message” stands as the crown jewel of Karma Collision, though, utilizing dire harmonies over its bridge and injecting the album with a whiplash spike in energy: the speed of the track and the structure of the grooves are reminiscent of Holographic Universe-era Scar Symmetry but with a slight power metal twist. I’m very curious to see them explore this sound further, since Cobra execute it magnificently despite their stoner core. “The Message” shows that Cobra still have the teeth and the energy to make their style of stoner metal compelling and exciting if applied appropriately.

The Colossal Gods have been conquered, and in their place comes something that is ironically more experimental yet more safe. While the moment-by-moment experience on Karma Collision is enjoyable and there’s a fair share of spectacular passages, many tracks would have benefited from a more thoughtful application of song ideas, since the listening experience as a whole is marred by a pantheon of decent but unrelated musical passages. Nonetheless, I appreciate Cobra the Impaler trying out new sounds and figuring out what works for them, and I hope that in future output they can experiment freely while also staying true to the facets that make their sound exciting and engaging.

Recommended tracks: The Message, Season of the Savage, Magnetic Hex
You may also like: Pryne, Vokonis, Witch Ripper, Boss Keloid
Final verdict: 6.5/10

Related links: | Spotify | Facebook | Instagram | Metal Archives | RateYourMusic

Label: Listenable Records – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Cobra the Impaler is:
– James Falek (guitars)
– Tace DC (guitars)
– Manuel Remmerie (vocals)
– Mike Def (vocals, bass)
– Ace Zec (drums)

The post Review: Cobra the Impaler – Karma Collision appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: progressive metal, power metal, symphonic metal (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Blind Guardian, Evergrey, Crimson Glory
Country: Belgium
Release date: 15 February 2024

Bar progressive metal, power metal is my favorite genre. But you see, I’m not like the other girls. While I love the typical high-octane, anthemic quality of songs like “Holy Thunderforce” or “Hunting High and Love,” they do not resonate with me on a deeper level. Instead, my favorite power metal groups are those who also have a darker, subdued melodic quality and operate in a relatively mid-tempo fashion: think Evergrey, Virgin Steele, Tanagra, Sacred Outcry, etc.  Whenever a band comes along that can successfully combine the genre’s explosive expressivity with a more contemplative atmosphere and Sad Music melodies, I tend to abandon all reason and fawn instantly. 

This was exactly my reaction upon discovering Throne of Thorns’s debut, Converging Parallel Worlds. Arising out of the Belgian metal scene, this progressive power metal band consists of various experienced musicians who have all been active in the Belgian scene for over a decade. Larger than life orchestration, emotionally charged vocals, complex yet punchy songwriting, tasteful melodic guitar solos, all wrapped in a professionally produced and performed package—small wonder that I had to sneak it into our February Album of the Month post at the last second. Initially, I ran out of superlatives describing this record, but today our goal is to find out whether or not this album presents a heavy case of new toy syndrome or if this is truly that special.

Things start pretty typically for prog/power. A cinematic intro track here, a synth-guitar unison opening there, and then right into the high-paced power metal riff assault made extra epic by the continued cinematic orchestration from the intro track. Nothing is out of the ordinary yet; just tropes done well. Josey Hindrix’s vocals, on the other hand, are quite unique in this style; roughly a minute into “Storm Maker” we’re met with a gravelly, relatively subdued voice that is oddly far back in the mix. He has little of the typical power metal extravaganza and can almost feel like a grunge singer. Normally I like my power metal vocals more forward, but here it strangely works, allowing more room for colorful, dramatic orchestration, which turns out to be one of the album’s best qualities. 

Wim Rotthier’s performance on keys is truly a highlight of Converging Parallel Worlds, sweeping me off my feet on multiple occasions with his sound design and dreamy keys. He has a wide range of dramatic flair, ranging from triumphant grandiosity to floating ethereal soundscapes to a foreboding mood piece. If anything, it’s when he uses the standard prog synth tones that I find him, even if competent, the least interesting. Either way, it is his keys that provide the backdrop for the rest of the band to shine. Melodically, this album is excellent as well. Thomas Verleye does a great job with the lead melodies and his solos are almost always a highlight, tastefully combining shred with melody. 

Songwriting-wise, a quick look at the song lengths shows that Throne of Thorns pulled no punches in terms of ambition. Barring the straightforward power metal-driven track “Atomic Retribution” and the power ballad “Underworld,” the band tries their best to lay as many twists and distinct moods into each track. While the majority of their ideas are great, I don’t think they always justify the song lengths. Take the opener “Storm Maker,” an overwhelmingly foreboding, dramatic song that feels either like it needs an explosive climax or an ethereal, emotive one. Instead, it tries to do both and succeeds at neither. Halfway through it does the former with a guitar solo that aims for the stars but stops just before it exits the atmosphere, and then after the chorus it attempts the latter by starting a Gilmour-esque solo over godly, ethereal keys, but wraps it up before it even got off the ground. 

On the other side of the spectrum, we have the closing epic “Fire and Ice” which lets its bridge transition properly from an ethereal atmospheric bit into a stunning barrage of solos and symphonic galore, but its main riffs aren’t expanded on at all. On one hand the track does 90s Blind Guardian-esque power metal, but on the other hand it goes in a symphonic progressive direction and the two entities are not made to match, causing a tonal whiplash when the main riff is brought back after the bridge, even if both parts are fantastic on their own. Continuing on, the title track has a great chorus and introduces one of the album’s best riffs halfway through, but it desperately needs some more gentle parts. “Black Diamond” justifies its length the best, housing some amazing melodic lead play, but colorless chugs in the verses bring it down a little. 

An album like this depends heavily on how good its melodies are. Josey Hindrix’s subdued voice provides an interesting contrast for the rest of the band to work with, but I would like to see him lean even further into the subdued. There was a greater potential to explore truly soft, sensitive passages on Converging Parallel Worlds  akin to the beginning of “Underworld” or at 2:41 in the title track that I feel Throne of Thorns did not fully tap into. The band has a fresh voice within the power-prog genre, and with some tightening, I could see them delivering something fantastic down the road. I must admit that new toy syndrome did get the best of me a little bit, but if the album took nearly a dozen listens to wear off of me, maybe it wasn’t that bad after all.

Recommended tracks: Atomic Retribution, Converging Parallel Worlds, Fire and Ice
You may also like: Tanagra, Chaos Frame, Course of Fate, The Pulse Theory
Final verdict: 7/10

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

Label: Rock of Angels Records – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Throne of Thorns is:
– Josey Hindrix (vocals)
– Thomas Jethro Verleye (guitars, bass)
– Wim Rotthier (keyboards)
– Baruch van Bellegem (drums)

The post Review: Throne of Thorns – Converging Parallel Worlds appeared first on The Progressive Subway.