Style: symphonic metal, heavy metal, Byzantine chant (clean vocals, choral)
Recommended for fans of: Batushka, Rotting Christ, Therion, Haggard
Country: Greece
Release date: 6 July 2025

Monastic monophonic chant gets me going: the style of religious music is utterly sublime. After the Great Schism in 1054, the Church split into Catholicism and Eastern Orthodoxy, and both sects developed their own unique—but overlapping—chant. As a (unfortunately) confirmed Catholic, I had to choose a confirmation name, so naturally, I went with Gregory after my adoration of Gregorian chant. But back to the Byzantine side: the musical and cultural differences of the liturgical style are clearly due to Ottoman influences coming from the East. Rather than evenly tempered Catholic modes, the Byzantine monks used a complex set of eight modes called echoi with microtonal intervals, the vocalists relying on melismas (slides between notes) in opposition to the Catholic monks who stick to full jumps between intervals.

This miniature history/music theory lesson should help frame Greek heavy metaler Δynamis’ debut album Byzantine Metal. The record, as the title so helpfully tells us, merges traditional Byzantine chant with metal. For a debut in a largely untapped realm—Batushka are the only obvious forebear—Byzantine Metal is a successful exploration of the intersection between Orthodoxy and metal. The lyrics are from actual hymns, and the majority of the music is sung in Greek with sing-along choruses in English. The clear highlight chorus is that of “Cherubic Hymn,” the lyrics all about celebrating Hellenic identity.

Vocally, Δynamis fill Byzantine Metal to the brim with wonderful monophonic choral lines provided by a full men’s choir of five, and their melismatic ornamentations to the vocal lines are immediate starting from opener “Kyrie Ekekraxa (Psalm 140).” Naturally, choirs fit in well with the epic vibes metal curates, but the ways in which Δynamis bring the traditional Byzantine chant into something modern and fit for the heavy metal ear is brilliant. The highlight performance on the album is from guest vocalist Billy Vass (on tracks “Kyrie Ekekraxa (Psalm 140),” “Kyrie Eleison,” and “Cherubic Hymn”) whose tone is superb for heavy metal, somewhere in between Tobias Sammet (Avantasia) and Daniel Heiman (Sacred Outcry). But his technique is the highlight, as he perfectly imitates the single melodic line of the choirs underneath him but with the bold, solo singing voice of metal. 

Beyond the strong Hellenic vocals, Δynamis keep the instrumentals high stakes epic with a variety of orchestration and shreddy guitar solos. They follow in the track’s distinct modes and accompany the clean vocal lines exceptionally well at some points (chorus of “Polyeleos (Psalm 135),” intro “Alosis 1453 (Psalm 78)”). When not riffing underneath a chorus, guitarist Bob Katsionis often works in conjunction with the Greek choral quintet to create wonderful buildups—the buildup into the English chorus with Vass in “Kyrie Eleison,” for instance, is one of the most hype and epic buildups I’ve heard this year despite the track’s brevity. However, most of the actual “riffs” on Byzantine Metal are plodding and uninspired, mostly power chords at a lollygagging pace. Of course, the guitars are certainly not Δynamis’ main point of interest, but hearing flashes of their melodic brilliance during most of Byzantine Metal makes the remainder seem disappointing. Having the guitars mostly be relegated to a mildly distorted texture so that the chanting sections remain “metal” is bland songwriting.

A brief aside into music theory-lite again: In opposition to the plainsong style of Gregorian chant which relies on improvised harmonization, Byzantine chant is highly structured although still freeflowing in rhythm and ornamentation. Unfortunately, Δynamis missed this memo as the band aimlessly hop section to section with little sense of cohesive flow. Byzantine Metal drifts through a string of bombastic, often ingenious ideas, but Δynamis easily lose the plot, and often I found a song blowing right by without me noticing much of what happened beyond “wow these are sick chants.”

Byzantine Metal is a history and music theory lesson along with a (in-theory) rad Hellenic heavy metal album all at once, and Δynamis showed off their love for Eastern Orthodox traditions to a whole new audience. With more emphasis on bringing Eastern melody into the guitar rather than relying on drab power chords—while possibly enlisting Vass as a full-time band member—Δynamis may become a powerful force in the powerful Greek metal scene. They’re already a unique one.

Recommended tracks: Kyrie Ekekraxa (Psalm 140), Kyrie Eleison, Alosis 1453 (Psalm 78), Cherubic Hymn
You may also like: Sacred Outcry, Ensemble Sreteniye, Epta Astera, Tim Donahue
Final verdict: 6.5/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Facebook

Label: independent

Δynamis is:
– Christopher Laskos: (Vocals/Choir, Keyboards, Choir Conducting)
-Bob Katsionis (Guitars/Bass/Keyboards/Drums)
With guests:
– Dimitrios Balageorgos, Athanasios Glaros, Lazaros Koumentakis, Stefanos Koumentakis, Christopher Laskos (choir of chanters)
– Billy Vass (Lead Vocals on tracks 1, 3, 8)
-Kyriakos GP (Guitar solo on track 8)

The post Review: Δynamis – Byzantine Metal appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Post-metal, progressive metal, progressive rock (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: The Ocean, Steven Wilson, Pink Floyd, Alice In Chains
Country: Greece
Release date: 13 June 2025

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | Instagram

Label: Sound Effect Records – Facebook | Official Website

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

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

Artwork by: Eirini Grammenou

Style: Progressive Metalcore (Mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Erra, Silent Planet, Thornhill (The Dark Pool), Polaris, Currents
Country: Greece
Release date: 30 May 2025

Little time was lost by my colleagues when it came to sniffing out facets of my musical inclinations. Some sides of a stone sparkle brighter than others, after all. As a result of their sleuthing, I’ve been dubbed “the metalcore guy;” a badge some may wear with shame, yet one I proudly present to the world. Works like Sempiternal (Bring Me The Horizon), The Death of Peace of Mind (Bad Omens), and Silent Planet’s entire discography rank amongst some of my favorite albums. There’s something activating about the dichotomy of hefty angst and (often) uplifting choruses, that vein of emotionality which inform the genre. Oh, and the breakdowns, of course. One can’t overlook a great, neck-snapping, back-throwing breakdown. I was thus presented with a recommendation: The Longing Light, debut EP from progressive metalcore newbies Nonlinear. Being the metalcore guy that I am, I accepted.

First things first. Please, oh please for the love of all that is right and good in this world, stop with the instrumental / ambient opening tracks. This is an issue that plagues more than metalcore, an infection of the wider metalsphere, and few are the bands who can properly justify the inclusion. EPs, by their very nature, offer limited listening capacity, and to waste one of those precious slots on such needless aurafarming veers close to criminal. I could overlook it if “Awakening” segued into list mate “Monochrome Chamber,” but it doesn’t. Instead, “Monochrome Chamber” hits reset on The Longing Light’s flow, offering up decidedly Silent Planet-flavored synths alongside a central riff that bends and skips like something out of the pre-Iridescent days. It’s a cool opening for a song, and feels far more natural than “Awakening.”

That said, what surprised me about Nonlinear is their ability to pull from a variety of different styles within the metalcore world. Most notably, The Longing Light features warping Silent Planet riffs and breakdowns (“Monochrome Chamber,” “The Longing Light”), uplifting pop-centered hooks and guitars à la early Polaris (“Reflections”), and the interplay between the roiling harshes and ethereal cleans courtesy of Erra. The record even features a trip hop-inspired instrumental at the midway point that calls to mind Post Human-era Bring Me The Horizon. And while this represents something of an identity crisis for the group, their newness cannot be overlooked. Hewing to influences is natural; metal of all stripes has been cannibalizing and laterally reproducing since pretty much its inception. Whether Nonlinear can shape these elements into something more recognizably their own is something only time can be sure of.

Where difficulties lie ahead, I fear, is less with appropriation of sound and more in the execution. To be clear, none of the performances here are bad, but neither are they activating in that special way great metalcore can be. The harsh vocals, while occasionally spicing things up with a good “blegh!” and a snarl here and there, come across rather one-dimensional and forced in their toughness, while the thinness of the cleans strip them of any real power. Yet, on “Reflections,” both approaches feel empowered by the Polaris-coded aesthetics in ways they struggle to provide on most of The Longing Light’s scant twenty-two minutes. Similarly, the music never really finds the hooks needed to grab the listener. “Reflections” probably comes closest, especially when it transitions from an introspective bridge into an ascendant closing moment as the drums build into a rumbling gallop around heaven-sent vocalization. Oddly enough, “Holding On” finds similar legs to stand on, despite being a short-lived instrumental; the trip hop groove and pulse-y synths forge an easy rhythm and vibe to settle into. “The Longing Light” seeks heartstring territory with its searching cleans, think-space carving breakdown, and writhing guitars, but never quite manages to pull off the sense of emotional authenticity required to succeed.

Nonlinear are trapped in a bit of an odd quandary. On one hand, their ability to incorporate various flavors of metalcore into their sound is admirable. But on the other, the band are perhaps using these sounds as crutches to hold up songwriting which otherwise lacks the necessary kung-fu grip. I’m a firm believer that iteration sits above originality when it comes to artistic pursuits. However, Nonlinear have yet to escape the shadows of their perceived influences and fully step into the light they long for, relying too much on recognizable moments to help them color within the lines of this largely paint-by-numbers sound. At the end of the day, The Longing Light is perfectly fine, but hardly essential. Luckily, Nonlinear have plenty of time to hone their craft. I have faith. After all, Bad Omens transitioned from a Bring Me The Horizon clone to writing The Death of Peace of Mind. Never say never. Keep looking for that light.

Recommended tracks: Reflections, Holding On, The Longing Light
You may also like: Save Your Last Breath, Artemis Rising, Simbulis
Final verdict: 5/10

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

Label: Independent

Nonlinear is:
– Konstantinos Chitas (clean vocals, guitar)
– Nikos Koudounas (bass)
– Alexander Louropoulos (guitar)
– Christos Papakonstantinou (drums)
– George Plaskasovitis (vocals)
With guests:
– Vrodex (feat. on “Holding On”)

The post Review: Nonlinear – The Longing Light appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Artwork by: George Gkousetis for Semitone Labs

Style: Doomgaze, Gothic Metal, Industrial Rock (Clean Vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Boris, Villagers of Ioannina City, early Lucifer, Trees of Eternity
Country: Greece
Release date: 11 April 2025

Of all the elements, none seem to me as foreboding as water. The ocean, specifically; an abyssal plain mired in secrecy, capable of projecting statements of serenity and violent obliteration alike. Despite our best efforts at taming this monolith of nature, we remain unsuccessful. We’ve corrupted it, yes, but make no mistake: the waters will one day rise and eventually devour us in our hubris, rendering the supposedly immutable strength of our technological and “civilized” world nothing more than a fanciful reef of concrete, steel, and glass. Bleak, I know, but such is the measure of Greek doomgaze trio Church of the Sea.

Two years removed from debut Odalisque, the young Athenian cohort have plumbed the halls of their barnacled worship-house to deliver a conceptual, revisionist take on Eve, reimagining Christianity’s First Lady¹ as a rebel rather than sinner. Vocalist Irene leads this somber congregation as she doles out sirenic croons atop waves of Vangelis’ sundering guitar, and a crush depth of apocalyptic darkwave summoned by the archdiocese of atmosphere, Alex (synths/samples). The mood across Eva, like the sea, is dark and roiling and yawning; as all good doom should be. There is no coast on the horizon upon which this journey shall terminate. Eva demands you either float upon its waves or be pulled under and obliterated.

Sonically, Church of the Sea succeed in generating an undertow of effectively gloomy tracks, in no small part to the gnarled electronic beats and ever-constant churn of synthetic drones, hums and eldritch wails. Some people may scoff at a metal band using electronic drums in lieu of a proper set of skins, but I will dissent and applaud the choice. Alex knows how to establish and support the mood, carving a gorgeous melancholia from his synths and beatmakers. I was reminded often of another percussively electronic band, Luminous Vault, who likewise justified their decision on Animate the Emptiness (2019) by threading the vibe and texture of the electronics into the very DNA of the music. Oftentimes, Vangelis’ guitar forms a symbiosis with its synthetic counterparts, giving Eva a holistic quality it may otherwise have lacked (see Morbid Angel’s Illud Divinum Insanus for examples of how this could’ve gone very wrong). And Irene delivers a suitably doom-y performance reminiscent of Messa’s Sara Bianchin and Tribunal’s Soren Mourne, haunting and resonant.

And yet, despite Eva’s siren charms and beautifully realized texture, I found myself fighting to stay afloat as I bobbed along. This is not an “active” album—by that, I mean do not expect any uptempo rollicking. Eva wishes to soak into you, a calculating tendril curling up from unconquerable depths to twist and turn inside your mind. Which is well and good, except my consciousness is often far afield of any such infiltration, having been coaxed into periods of forgetfulness by a tracklist which struggles to differentiate its constituent parts in riveting enough ways. Once you hear “The Siren’s Choice,” you’ve heard everything Church of the Sea have on offer here. That’s not to say tracks lift riffs or motifs from each other, just that there are no real surprises on the album, no big highlights to create a sense of journey—especially problematic if one considers Eva’s narrative aims. Even if we overlook such peckish concerns, escaping the languid vortex is difficult, to the point where track names became little more than suggestions of progress as opposed to buoys by which to orient myself on this voyage of proposed rebellion.

Church of the Sea have proven a difficult denomination to pledge myself to. Their sermons are bewitching, for a time, but too quickly they begin to mirror my (admittedly limited) experience in our own terrestrial churches.² The solemn grandeur begins to fade away and my mind wanders, seeking stimuli of a more engaging design. I welcome others to sit at Eva’s pews; just try not to judge if you see me zoning out in the back, or slipping away to see what the crabs are up to.

Recommended tracks: Garden of Eden, Churchyard, Widow
You may also like: Bank Myna, The Silent Era, Drownship, Noctambulist, Kollaps/e
Final verdict: 6/10

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

Label: These Hands Melt Records – Bandcamp | Instagram | Official Website

Church of the Sea is:
– Irene (vocals)
– Vangelis (guitars)
– Alex (synths/samples)

1. Unless you count Lilith, but she gets even less love than Eve ︎
2. It’s mostly been for funerals, but even the “livelier” times have been full of humdrum ︎

The post Review: Church of the Sea – Eva appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Groove metal, progressive metal, deathcore (Mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Gojira, Fit For An Autopsy, Shokran, Lamb of God
Country: Greece
Release date: 25 April 2025

Humans have had a long-standing fascination with technology, dreaming of grand cybernetic implants¹ and attempting to bring a primal touch to its steel and silicon creations. This fixation has even bled into music: the crux of pop act Magdalena Bay’s 2022 Mercurial World tour was imparting humanity into a robot named Chaeri by ‘feeding’ her secrets sent in by listeners to a voice mailbox, then having her come out onstage and dance. Oria sits in a similar state, trying to find their humanity after years of calcification into machine. Does their latest release, This Future Wants Us Dead, transcend its metallic form or are we left with a heart of steel by its end?

Oria’s schematics can be traced back to two sources: Gojira and Fit For an Autopsy. Swirling around chunky grooves, crushing the listener under crunchy breakdowns, and exuding a biting humanist lyrical bent, This Future Wants Us Dead explores myriad compositional ideas while sticking steadfast to its rigid sonic framework. A bevy of vocal styles are used across the record, including mechanical cleans (“Tantalia”), half-shouted spits (“Pirates, Parrots, and Parasites”), and full-bodied deathcore harshes (“Guided by the Hand of G.O.D.S.”); Oria even throw in some throat singing for good measure (“Clouds of Anatta”). Structurally, This Future Wants Us Dead loosens and becomes more organic across its runtime, beginning fairly regimented in its compositions and allowing them to flow and breathe a bit more near its end.

So how does Oria handle its transition from machine to man? Well, when getting settled into any new body (an experience I’m sure we’re all familiar with), growing pains are inevitable. Opening track “Metamorphocene: The New from the Shell of the Old” in particular feels the most like a machine trying to recalibrate to its limbs, as its straightforward grooves are serviceable but missing a bit of punch to make them stand out. Additionally, the vocal performance is the record’s weakest, the harsh vocals lacking bite and the clean vocals coming across as stilted and robotic, and not in a way that is likely intended. Nevertheless, vocalist Leonidas Plataniotis seems to become more comfortable in his performance over the course of This Future Wants Us Dead. He fully comes into his own on “Guided by the Hand of G.O.D.S.” as he harshly bellows ‘Taste the agony of freewill’ before the listener is absolutely cudgeled by a breakdown. On the climax of “From Wastelands to Vile Hands”, he charismatically proclaims ‘We—will—rise—on top of the bile!’ and “Clouds of Anatta” sees a clever call-and-response of half-harsh rasps and throat singing. The lyricism matches this evolution in confidence, showing a steadfast conviction to individualism and self-agency. 

The instrumental work betrays a much more subtle growth, beginning with a set of groove-heavy tracks that eventually become more generous with their breakdowns. The verses of “Pirates, Parrots, and Parasites”, for example, contain a bouncy core, guitar grooves rebounding off of punctuated snare hits and holding back from crushing heaviness. Later tracks like “Chthonic Uprising” and “Guided by the Hand of G.O.D.S.” are centralized by their breakdowns, using weighty chugs and group shouts to build into steamrolling climaxes. Moreover, it’s quite remarkable how easily Oria explore ideas within the relatively narrow framework of grooves and breakdowns, changing their formula up enough on a track-by-track basis to instill a strong identity and avoiding the trap of samey-ness commonly present in more groovy approaches to metal.

However, within these standout moments emerges a subtle flaw: song flow. In any given moment, a track has something engaging and fun going on, but when trying to piece together the progression of a piece, it’s difficult to make out its intention or trajectory. What’s missing is some kind of central idea to hold compositions together—yes, many tracks happily sit in a verse-chorus structure, but repetition of ideas is not quite enough to coalesce a piece into something cohesive. “Terragenics”, for example, sits in a similar groove across its runtime, establishing a Meshuggah-with-extra-squeals riff in its opening moments. The track ends with a surprising and engaging black metal-ish section, but the two parts don’t feel particularly related. The establishing staccato off-grooves are all but abandoned, and so I end up confused about how we got here. Each piece without a doubt has interesting moments and compelling vocal melodies, and I wish that tracks were more faithful to their best ideas instead of stringing together passages that happen to occasionally land on genius.

The closing moments of This Future Wants Us Dead tap into the missing nuance and elegance in its compositions, transforming from a ponderous fledgling into something wholly organic and finessed. The last two tracks in particular showcase songwriting mastery from two separate angles. “Tantalia” is sharply focused and tight, stubbornly ruminating on a tumbling groove led along by clean vocals. Occasionally, the rollicking trems get knocked into heavy breakdowns, but never without purpose or clever transitions, deftly pummeling the listener into the ground across its runtime. Conversely, “Slow Down, Take a Breath and Bury the World that Was” is a slow-burner, beginning with sparse percussion, subdued vocals, and quiet guitar picking. More layers and more intensity are added as the track progresses, taking a detour with an Inmazes-style (VOLA) solo on its way to a triumphant climax. As Plataniotis proclaims ‘We embrace our power within’, the track opens up, the agency demanded from the lyrics expressing a cathartic release as an ascendant djent groove triumphantly soars in newfound freedom.

Despite its cold and robotic exterior, This Future Wants Us Dead is remarkably human in both its desire for independence and its imperfections. Regimented and stilted in its introductory moments, Oria wield their appendages with style and focus by the record’s end. There are certainly still kinks to work out in the machine, though: a stronger focus on tight songwriting around their best ideas and a more persistent confidence in the vocal delivery will help to augment their output considerably. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to recharge my cybernetic arm-gun.

Recommended tracks: Slow Down, Take a Breath and Bury the World that Was; Tantalia; Pirates, Parrots, and Parasites
You may also like: Nostoc, Ahasver, Interloper, Hippotraktor
Final verdict: 6.5/10

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

Label: Theogonia Records – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Oria is:
– Leonidas Plataniotis – Vocals, Guitars
– Thanasis Kostopoulos – Guitars
– Stefanos Papadopoulos – Bass
– Jordan Tsantsanoglou – Drums

1. I’m still waiting on my Mega Man-style lemon shooter. ︎

The post Review: Oria – This Future Wants Us Dead appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Progressive rock, progressive metal (instrumental)
FFO: Earthside, Russian Circles, Tides from Nebula
Country: Greece
Release date: 18 April 2025

Before we get into today’s review, I’d like to invite you to participate in a little Choose Your Own Adventure game. Remember them? Those thin, whimsically illustrated books that invited us as kids to step into the shoes of some inoffensively anonymous adventurer as they plundered ancient pyramids or explored the far reaches of the galaxy, their fate hanging in the balance with every choice we made? Your choice today, dear reader, is as follows: Do you like bagpipes? If yes, turn to paragraph two. If no, hit the back button on your browser, and I promise not to tell anyone about your bad taste.

Okay, I may have been exaggerating a bit above. While the gaida¹ does feature generously from the jump on Hamelin, the debut album from Greek instrumental prog metal band King Garcia, it’s only one of a host of unorthodox wind instruments featured in lieu of vocals. As an assembly of current and former members of Mother of Millions, POEM, and Tardive Dyskinesia, King Garcia’s sound is cinematic and earthy, with a propulsive energy that pairs Ennio Morricone or John Williams-ish influences with flavourful instrumental prog à la Earthside or Tides from Nebula. The close-knit fabric of the Greek metal scene evident in the band’s membership is also woven in behind the scenes; Hamelin is mixed and mastered by Hector D., who has worked with other Greek bands like Need and Calyces.

Popping fresh out of the oven as an instrumental act, King Garcia set themselves a formidable challenge. Instrumental progressive metal bands have little choice but to walk a tightrope: on one side of the chasm below is chip-on-your-shoulder virtuosic wanking; on the other, bland forgettability. King Garcia are fleet-footed in their approach; trumpet, clarinet, gaida, and kaval all trade off lead roles, putting woodwinds at the forefront of their sound and crafting an original sound while still forgoing wankery.
Although a case could be made to lock in on just one instrument as the lead (as vocals would be in most bands, or guitar in Plini or Intervals), the rotating showcases allow for a diverse array of standout moments. Whether it’s the clamouring bagpipes in the opening “Prelude: Rats!”, the thrumming beats under vibrant, bright choral harmonies in “Anise”, or the clarinet nimbly taking the lead in “Sweat”, the opening minutes of Hamelin burst with unstoppable forward momentum. Not to be outdone, the trumpet injects passages that resonate with a grandiose solemnity, evocative of the Last Post (4:05 in “We Echo”).

However, as that momentum presses on to the back half of the album, the journey isn’t without a few bumps. The pizzazz factor is somewhat lower, and there are fewer surprises, once King Garcia have played their full hand of woodwinds and accoutrements. Some song’s intros are too long and break the flow (“The Day We Lost Everything” with its extended storm-scape, “Closer”); and while I love Killer Mike, the inclusion of a spoken word excerpt from his well-publicized May 2020 press conference² (“We Echo”) doesn’t quite land. As the only part of Hamelin with actual lyrics, it’s not clear if it is intended as a thesis statement for the song, or the album, or just atmosphere. 

As well, at a few points on Hamelin, I found myself questioning whether it really needs to be a metal album. Most notably, “Magnolia”, opens with a sultry bass-backed trumpet solo, but when the chunky, distorted guitars kick into gear under the trumpet, it almost seems a shame—the subtlety of the track’s languid opening minutes is more effective and engaging than what comes after. I have the same issue with the guitars in “Hamelin”; whether it’s a question of production or a stylistic choice, their presence is bludgeoning, at the expense of the more intriguing offerings from the non-standard metal instrumentations. But Kostas Konstantinidis does have some flashes of brilliance on guitar, especially in the album’s softer moments: tonally, the introduction of “Closer” reminds me very much of Pain of Salvation’s “In the Passing Light of Day”, with a similarly simple yet haunting melody.

In turn clever, cinematic, catchy, and captivating in its unique brand of woodwind-led progressive metal, Hamelin has a lot to offer. While all of the members of King Garcia are experienced musicians in their own rights, some of the decisions made on this debut outing show seams that still need to be smoothed over. Nonetheless, I’d happily choose to turn to whatever page contains the next chapter from King Garcia.

Recommended tracks: Anise, Magnolia, Closer

You may also like: Yossi Sassi, Acyl, Tardive Dyskinesia

Final verdict: 7/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | Instagram

Label: ViciSolum Records – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

King Garcia is:
– Alex Orfanos: trumpet and clarinet
– Kamil Kamieniecki: drums
– Kornilios Kiriakidis: bass
– Kostas Konstantinidis: guitar
With guests:
– Konstantinos Lazos: gaida and kaval
– Iakovos Molybakis: percussion

1. a type of bagpipe found in Southeastern Europe ︎
2. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vy9io6VEt58 ︎

The post Review: King Garcia – Hamelin appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: progressive metal, post-metal, stoner metal, sludge metal (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Mastodon, Intronaut, Black Peaks
Country: Greece
Release date: 21 March 2025

In Hollywood there’s a phenomenon known as twin films: two films with very similar premises that release in the same year. White House Down and Olympus Has Fallen (2013); The Prestige and The Illusionist (2006); Deep Impact and Armageddon (1998); Oppenheimer and Barbie (2023) there are countless examples and one is usually better than the other¹. These cinematic twins often come out of what are known as Black List scripts; unproduced screenplays of potential floating around which one studio buys and the other unscrupulously plagiarises. But what of twin bands? Take Tardive Dyskinesia and Intronaut. Formed in Greece in 2003, and LA in 2004 respectively, both bands are clearly heavily influenced by acts like Mastodon, Gojira and Meshuggah, engaging in a heavily polyrhythmic take on progressive metal with psychedelic and sludge influences². But the main similarity is in the clean vocals: Manthos Stergiou and Sacha Dunable could be brothers judging by their voices and delivery. And if you’re wondering when this intro is going to get to the point then I have good news: Stergiou from Tardive Dyskinesia now fronts Calyces. This younger sibling band debuted with Impulse to Soar in 2020 and barely shifted style from the Tardive Dyskinesia days. Can their sophomore see Stergiou detwin himself from his former musical counterpart?

Short answer: yes, with a but. Fleshy Waves of Probability takes that Mastodon-esque style in a slightly more post-hardcore direction, culling the proggier excesses and leaning into the trappings of the adoptive genre. At two-thirds the length of their debut, this is a short but sweet follow-up; a tightening of the compositional nuts and bolts. It’s not as though this is a new gambit, as a few bands in the scene have blended the punch of post-hardcore with Mastodon sludginess—notably Cobra the Impaler and Black Peaks. But Stergiou’s gruff, Intronaut-y vocals, syncopated riffage, and adherence to the tenets of polyrhythmicism help them stand out a little against such compatriots. 

Calyces want to do two things on Fleshy Waves of Probability: riff out and be anthemic—their stance vis-à-vis bubblegum is unrecorded—and they do both with aplomb, be it the whoaaa-oooaaa-oooo’s in “Swirling Towards the Light”, or the rather uplifting chant of ‘break down their spines’ on the chorus of “Boneshatter”. “Voices in the Gray” may be the record’s punkiest outing, shifting into an Every Time I Die gear with its hardcore-inspired shouts, pacy riffing, and classic heavy metal style guitar solo. A couple of riffs skirt a little too close to Mastodon: “Swirling Toward the Light” is so Blood Mountain you’ll think someone’s trying to kill you, while the main riff of “Wastelands” has a touch of “Roots Remain” (Emperor of Sand) to it, but it’s homage over rip-off, and the composition manages a solid balance between the sludge and the post-hardcore.

Of course, this is a prog release and we don’t want to skimp on those more ambitious leanings. Most come in the form of instrumental bridges, such as “Wastelands” which takes its central riff on an evolving instrumental journey. “Lost in Phrase” has a doomier pace with another grandiose mid-section as Stergiou screams over the chuntering bassline. The closer “Lethargy” is the most progressively structured track, evolving through an intro section, a guest violin solo (an unexpected texture on a sludgy album), and a more ostentatious outro section which features a Gojira-esque tapping motif. It’s a cinematic way to end, but the prog showcase here does highlight the relative absence of compositional risk-taking elsewhere. The rest of the album can feel somewhat meat and potatoes, a bit bog standard; it’s good metal, well performed, and you’ll find yourself headbanging along or going “sick” when a tasty solo hits, but you’ll likely not be awestruck during your listening. 

A tightening of focus sees Calyces stepping out of the shadow of their older sibling Tardive Dyskinesia but the interjection of post-hardcore influences plays it safe with catchy hooks, sweet licks and punchy runtimes, all par for the course in this subgenre niche. You’ll probably enjoy the fleshy waves of sound emanating out of this sophomore, but it may not give you an impulse to soar.

Recommended tracks: Lost in Phrase, Boneshatter, Flowing Through Storm
You may also like: Cobra the Impaler, Boss Keloid, Pryne
Final verdict: 7/10

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

Label: Independent

Calyces is:
– Manthos Stergiou (vocals, guitars, synths)
– Stavros Rigos (drums)
– Loukas Giannakitsas (bass, contrabass)
– Giannis Golfis (guitars)

With:
– Alexandra Stergiou (violin)

1. The Prestige and Deep Impact are the better films; White House Down and Olympus Has Fallen are equally dumb fun; Oppenheimer and Barbie was a joke that three of my colleagues insisted I include but which I don’t think is very good, so I’m using this footnote to call them out. ︎
2. There are differences, too: Tardive Dyskinesia lacked the overt jazziness and psychedelia of Intronaut but I’m not letting facts ruin my tortured intro conceit. ︎

The post Review: Calyces – Fleshy Waves of Probability appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: progressive metal, alternative metal (mixed vocals, majority clean)
Recommended for fans of: Leprous, Kingcrow, Katatonia
Country: Greece
Release date: 4 October, 2024

How can you break out of the patterns and routines which lock you in place? How can you look at what’s happened before and learn the right lessons to change the outcome when you try again? In creative pursuits, as in the rest of one’s life, it’s easy to get stuck in a rut that leads you down the same mental paths time after time. Human nature drives us to follow habits, to embrace the status quo. It’s only by taking a step back and re-evaluating your goals and values that these patterns can be broken, otherwise the same failings and stagnation can only continue. Although this sentiment is much more timely now compared to when Magna Mater actually released last month, it feels fitting for the year 2024 as a whole that Mother of Millions has presented us with another release that largely follows in the footsteps—and particularly the shortcomings—of what came before it.

The guitars are deeper and heftier, and the vocals have matured to greater heights in their strength, but there is little to be found within Magna Mater that wasn’t already covered in 2017’s Sigma or done better in 2019’s Artifacts. The opening track “Inside” transitions quickly from its spacey beginning into the band’s meaty signature combo of guitar and synth. This is the blueprint for the majority of the album: each track’s mood is mostly defined by the vocals, with modulations in tone or timbre offering contrast between somber and energetic productions from one song to the next, but the constant undercurrent is the rhythm section, steadily plodding along in the background but offering little distinction to any track compared to the others. Because of this, the title track stands out as the most memorable (although not the best) of the early tracks due to Antonia Mavronikola’s unique guest vocals which offer ethereal, mysterious contrast to primary singer George Prokopiou’s edgier and more powerful performance. However, even this aesthetically unique song remains largely mired in the same indistinct instrumentals, with little unique appeal to pick out aside from the vocal performances.

Mother of Millions’s music has always felt incredibly emotional (in large part thanks to Prokopiou’s singing), even when the rest of the ensemble can’t quite keep pace with the impact of his fathomless voice. Magna Mater deepens the intensity of that primary performance, but the band’s expressive capabilities as a whole still lag behind their ambition. Although the backing rhythm parts of each track do an adequate job of supporting the emotion of the vocals, they rarely combine in unique or memorable ways that create a moment greater than the sum of the recorded musical notes; this is quite a letdown compared to their prior release, Artifacts, which showed much more variety in the instrumental parts and better used the harmony of vocal and instrumental parts to produce an array of different personalities and meanings for its songs. In many ways it seems Mother of Millions might benefit from a more post-rock-esque style to accompany Prokopiou’s performance; in moments like the first minute of “Irae,” where the instrumentals fade into a passive background of keyboard-led soundscapes, his singing—finally freed of petty distractions—comfortably outshines anything that the guitar, bass, or drums put forward in the preceding seven tracks.

Funnily enough, it’s the closing tracks which give the most substantial glimpse into Mother of Millions’s potential for revolution, waving goodbye with a cheeky wink and just a suggestion of the innovation the earlier songs could have achieved. The aforementioned first half of “Irae” builds its own unique atmosphere to support gentle vocals with equally gentle piano and drums, while the second half puts me in mind of Leprous (from the Pitfalls era and beyond) with its impressive, climactic buildup; perhaps Mother of Millions could learn some key lessons from their equally vocalist-focused peer. “Irae” puts Prokopiou through a set of exercises beyond anything else to be found in Magna Mater, beginning with his trademark soft rock sweetness but ending with hard-edged, almost hardcore-punk cries that leverage his surprisingly harsh tones combined with driving, unrelenting rhythms to produce the best and most emotional moments from the album by far. Afterwards, “Space” is appropriately one of the few songs to offer space for Prokopiou’s commanding vocals to take on the leading role they were meant for, still dominant despite the softer tone of this particular song, a reminder of the band’s core musical strength but also how underrepresented it has been throughout Magna Mater.

For all the great vocal work and emotional content which runs throughout the album, Magna Mater makes little effort to take steps forward or in any other direction. Content to settle into their well worn groove, Mother of Millions play to their core strength in George Prokopiou’s singing, but fail to advance their instrumental accompaniment in ways that could support him even better. While the closing tracks “Irae” and “Space” show a flash of inspiration and novelty, the rest don’t offer any great contrast with each other or with the band’s past works. May we all learn this lesson from Magna Mater’s shortcomings: the ability to move forward, to enact real change, starts with re-evaluating the choices and patterns that brought us to where we are now, and then taking bold steps to break out of habits and move in a new direction.

Recommended tracks: Inside, Feral, Irae, Space
You may also like: Haven of Echoes, Mantra, Riviẽre, In the Silence, Traverser
Final verdict: 5/10

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

Label: ViciSolum – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Mother of Millions is:
– George Prokopiou (vocals)
– Kostas Konstantinidis (guitars)
– Panos Priftis (bass)
– George Boukaouris (drums, keyboards)
With guest:
– Antonia Mavronikola (additional vocals, “Magna Mater”)

The post Review: Mother of Millions – Magna Mater appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Black metal, progressive metal, spaaaaace (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Enslaved, A Forest of Stars, Midnight Odyssey
Country: Greece
Release date: 28 June 2024

Out of all major metal subgenres, the combination of progressive metal with black metal has strangely enough yet to see much commercial success within the limited realm of prog fans. This is not for a lack of innovative artists, mind you—black metal has been at the forefront of metal innovation for years—yet somehow, the two subgenres have by and large remained culturally separate entities, with even the most major acts like Enslaved and Ihsahn struggling to enter the cultural prog metal pantheon in the same way major acts of other prog + extreme metal subgenres like The Ocean or Ne Obliviscaris seem to have no trouble with. Hailing from Greece, Hail Spirit Noir is another entry pushing a mixture of black metal and prog into creative directions, gaining notoriety for their incorporation of lighthearted psychedelic/space rock, but with their new album Fossil Gardens they’re pushing for blacker pastures—do they succeed?

In true psychedelic fashion, the experience is wonderfully immersive. Opener “Starfront Promenade” sucks you in with space ambient and the warm, slightly reverb-laden singing of Theoharis before it morphs smoothly into the epic space black metal sound that will define much of the album as both layers cosmic ambience and wiuwiu synth melodies contort around blast beats and icy tremolos. Theoharis’s ghastly harsh vocals are a natural fit, filling the soundscape out amazingly, but sadly the mastering on the drums and the guitars is a tad overpowering so he’s more in the background than I’d like, and when he starts singing during the black metal parts he becomes a bit of a footnote. Besides the vocals though, the production is cozy, spacious, and completely enveloping as it gives space to every layer of the atmosphere to breathe in.¹Out of all major metal subgenres, the combination of progressive metal with black metal has strangely enough yet to see much commercial success within the limited realm of prog fans. This is not for a lack of innovative artists, mind you—black metal has been at the forefront of metal innovation for years—yet somehow, the two subgenres have by and large remained culturally separate entities, with even the most major acts like Enslaved and Ihsahn struggling to enter the cultural prog metal pantheon in the same way major acts of other prog + extreme metal subgenres like The Ocean or Ne Obliviscaris seem to have no trouble with. Hailing from Greece, Hail Spirit Noir is another entry pushing a mixture of black metal and prog into creative directions, gaining notoriety for their incorporation of lighthearted psychedelic/space rock, but with their new album Fossil Gardens they’re pushing for blacker pastures—do they succeed?

In true psychedelic fashion, the experience is wonderfully immersive. Opener “Starfront Promenade” sucks you in with space ambient and the warm, slightly reverb-laden singing of Theoharis before it morphs smoothly into the epic space black metal sound that will define much of the album as both layers cosmic ambience and wiuwiu synth melodies contort around blast beats and icy tremolos. Theoharis’s ghastly harsh vocals are a natural fit, filling the soundscape out amazingly, but sadly the mastering on the drums and the guitars is a tad overpowering so he’s more in the background than I’d like, and when he starts singing during the black metal parts he becomes a bit of a footnote. Besides the vocals though, the production is cozy, spacious, and completely enveloping as it gives space to every layer of the atmosphere to breathe in.

But simply blast beating well does not a good black metal album maketh; fortunately, Hail Spirit Noir do have some tricks up their sleeve. “Curse you, Entropia” is built around a proggy, sprawling midtempo riff whose 6/4 rhythmic cadence is always maintained in one way or another as the rest of the song modulates around it. Drummer Foivos Chatzis also often spices things up with his thunderous, tom-laden fills, pounding rhythms that remind me of later Enslaved, and interesting accentuations, something which central epic “The Road to Awe” shows especially well. Furthermore, “Ludwig in Orbit” is an interesting a cappella interlude with a church organ that leads nicely into the title track closer which does the most with its atmosphere of all the tracks by shooting the wiuwiu synths like falling stars and adding some more electronic touches.

This however, does not prevent Fossil Gardens from homogeneity. For all its experimentation, the mental image of psychedelic cosmic synths over epic tremolos and blast beats remains dominant throughout. I appreciate the attempt at a more black metal-driven sound, but when most of it feels like your average second wave worship, my interest starts to wane (looking at you, “The Blue Dot”). This is also where the mixing choices really comes to bite as the clean vocals could have provided some much needed variety that now got lost whenever performed next to the metal parts, something which epic “The Road to Awe” really could have benefitted from as it sadly blends together with the rest of the album despite its more pronounced ebb and flow structure. Only the climax with its aggressive, almost thrashy riff and melodic guitar solo at the end (more of those please) serves to distinguish the track, but it’s too little too late.

I was fairly excited for Fossil Genera Gardens when I saw its release announced, hoping to be able to further my quest of convincing the community of progressive black metal’s greatness and creativity, but while the incorporation of space ambient is fairly innovative within prog, for black metal it is quite standard, which extends to the quality of the black metal itself. Some great moments remain and the experience never goes below simply pleasant, but by and large I would rather advise you to try one of their older albums or to get into Enslaved instead.

1. which is a shame because his lines are good ︎

Recommended tracks: Starfront Promenade; Curse you, Entropia; Fossil Gardens
You may also like: Ars Moriendi, Dordeduh, The Lost Sun
Final verdict: 6/10

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

Label: Agonia Records – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Hail Spirit Noir is:
– Theoharis (vocals, guitars)
– Haris (keyboards)
– Demian (bass)
– Foivos Chatzis (drums)

The post Review: Hail Spirit Noir – Fossil Gardens appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: progressive metal, power metal, symphonic metal (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Dream Theater, Symphony X, Darkwater, Kamelot
Country: Greece
Release date: 14 June, 2024

It can feel a bit silly when you check the “members” tab on the Metal-Archives page for a little known band and see each performer with a list of five or more equally-unknown current and former projects. Where do people find time to be involved in so many groups? But I’m all in favor of such widespread cross-pollination of band members in the underground metal scene; it adds a sense of community and shared effort. From a listener’s perspective, it offers consistency and familiarity, and the ability to trace members from one group to another in order to discover new bands that may have similar styles to the ones you already love. Imagine my delight, then, upon seeing listed for Sunburst both singer Vasilis Georgiou and guitarist Gus Drax of Black Fate, a fellow Greek underground darling whose 2020 Ithaca passed by without much fanfare despite its monumental closing track “Circle of Despair” (I guess we all had other things on our minds at the time). Having that extra point of reference for the involved talent brought a little extra excitement as I started exploring Manifesto.

Although I know some love to quibble over how much orchestral content is required to really count as “symphonic” metal, Sunburst incorporate that symphonic shade to Manifesto’s aesthetic without making it a defining presence. The bookend tracks “The Flood,” “Hollow Lies,” and “Nocturne” feature extra orchestral arrangements with synthesized brass and strings that expand the sonic palette and add a deeper richness to the already rich musical texture. Even on the rest of the album, where the orchestral presence isn’t felt as strongly, that symphonic feeling remains a consistent background element thanks to the keyboard part, adding subtle depth and layering to the composition. Beyond that, Sunburst come across as a fairly standard, though clearly talented, modern power metal band, with Michael Romeo-esque lead guitar melodies and soaring, arpeggio-heavy solos inhabiting the latter half of every song. If anything, Manifesto reminds me of Course of Fate almost as much as it does Black Fate, even though the former band lacks the latter’s personnel overlap. The same sort of abundant, driving energy fills the music, sweeping the listener along in a tide of spectacle and emotion.

When it comes to Sunburst’s own distinct sound, those shared personnel bring along much of the same style that they featured in Black Fate, and their contribution is equally welcome here. Vasilis Georgiou’s voice in particular so strongly defines Manifesto’s mood that your opinion of the two are likely intrinsically tied to one another. A lesser known singer who truly deserves to become a household name in the community, Georgiou invests his full musical talent in every moment of his performance. His strong vibrato style may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but his energy is infectious, and the strength with which he belts out the climactic moments lifts all the rest of the music along with it. Setting aside the vocals, Gus Drax’s guitar work carries the greatest impact, taking the lead in almost all the solo or instrumental sections and driving the musical energy further forward when Georgiou’s voice falls silent. The bass and especially the keyboard parts are mixed lower than they deserve, for example during the instrumental break in the middle of “Perpetual Descent” where the keyboard is almost inaudible next to the ongoing guitars, even though the moment feels like it should be a keyboard solo or at least a shared one. Keeping the spotlight so fully on vocals and guitar robs Manifesto of a bit of extra variety that could have been enhanced by heavier touches of symphonic-ness outside of the special arrangements that open and close the album.

If I were to level one criticism at Manifesto, it’s that the album as a whole feels almost shockingly uniform. Individual tracks express their own high quality construction, but follow more or less the same mood or tone and no track has any especially standout identifying features to distinguish it from all the rest. The lyrical themes show equally little variety, covering typical metal topics like inner emotional conflict and fighting for purpose or direction in life without condensing a distinct message or journey for each song. Each of these ideas is executed in a competent and compelling way, but the lack of variation undercuts the basic successes and makes each new track feel like a continuation of what came before rather than its own new triumph. On the bright side, this means a certain level of consistency, allowing Sunburst to knock out one excellent track after another almost across the entire album. More frustratingly, though, this also means that tracks which don’t quite nail their execution, like “Samaritan” and “From the Cradle to the Grave,” feel like inferior imitations of their neighbors rather than distinct (even if imperfect) compositions of their own.

Thanks to a couple of key roster overlaps from elsewhere in the underground metal scene, Sunburst have inherited a legacy of quality songwriting and excellent musical performance. With Manifesto, they dutifully uphold that legacy, showcasing all the same strength of performance that the band members demonstrate in their other projects. In addition to their fundamentally powerful composition and enthralling presentation, Sunburst have mastered the technique of building out a section and milking it for all it’s worth before continuing on to the next. Their songs may not be especially complex or innovative in their structures, but complexity is not everything, and they make the best possible use of tried and true techniques to deliver an impactful and memorable performance.

Recommended tracks: The Flood, Perpetual Descent, Inimicus Intus, Nocturne
You may also like: Black Fate, Course of Fate, Sacred Outcry, Psycrence
Final verdict: 8/10

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

Label: Inner Wound – Bandcamp | Website | Facebook | YouTube

Sunburst is:
– Vasilis Georgiou (vocals)
– Gus Drax (guitars)
– Kostas Milonas (drums)
– Nick Grey (bass)
With guest:
– Bob Katsionis (keyboards)

The post Review: Sunburst – Manifesto appeared first on The Progressive Subway.