Style:  Progressive rock, folk rock (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Soen, The Dear Hunter, new Leprous, Hozier
Country: USA (Wisconsin)
Release date: 11 April 2025

I like going to the sphagnum bog near my house. Carved into the landscape by the inflow of the Champlain Sea some 12,000 years ago, this ecologically significant area is home to a rich array of flora and fauna in spite of its oligotrophic conditions. Once used for farming, it is now wrapped around by a scenic boardwalk peppered with signage detailing the bog’s history, plants and animals to look out for, and bafflingly, one rather editorialized sign depicting how mysterious bog creatures might come lurching out of the mist and kill you. A strange juxtaposition, to be sure, but perhaps not wholly incomparable to the experience of wandering through the murkier corners of progressive rock: the terrain may be uneven, there may be some unpredictable encounters along the way, but there’s always a promise of discovery.

Billed in the steam room of the Progressive Subway as a mix of Soen and The Dear Hunter, Samtar immediately caught my attention as a fan of those two bands. A one-man project with a prolific seven albums to his name in just five years, Samtar’s offerings are indeed deserving of both these comparisons and more, as he pairs a ringingly resonant baritone register giving touches of Soen’s Joel Ekelöf (“Desert Creature”) and Jim Grey of Caligula’s Horse (“Refuse”) with instrumental backing that ponderously navigates from dreamy and subtle to insistent and pulsing. In addition to the various heavier influences, Samtar also bears somewhat of a resemblance to Hozier (“All You Ever Wanted”) in his plaintive vocal delivery and blues-tinged folk instrumentals. The more those jazz and blues elements poke out of the mire, the better the effect, as the swingin’ guitar lines provide a smooth complement to Samtar in his relaxed baritone element.

All’s not well in the bog, however, and some of the trouble lies in the higher vocal range that Samtar seems intent on conquering. “Destiny is a Lie” illustrates this inconsistency perfectly, as the track sees him venture into a flimsy falsetto that adds nothing to the delivery. Belting, as in “All You Ever Wanted”, isn’t much better. It’s not that he can’t hit the high notes; more that doing so sometimes sounds like an uncomfortable strain.

This lack of vocal and lyrical subtlety sometimes makes for jarring juxtapositions of the album’s understated moments with the more bombastic ones. In “Fickle Fortune”, when Samtar cries out, “I fucking hate the fact we play these games”, I want to chastise him: sir, we’re in a bog! Don’t disturb the apparitions. Similarly in “Broken Sparrow”, which is the least heavy track on The Bog of Cosmic Delusions, Samtar’s climactic, passionate vocal release lacks the restraint and precision required for a successful execution, and the passion feels unearned. Also awkward at times is the way the lyrical and musical phrases are paired: emphasis often falls on the wrong syllable—this is particularly noticeable in “Distant Voices”, but recurs throughout the album.

While the vocals bubble most prominently up to the surface of The Bog of Cosmic Delusions, Samtar delivers capable and varied instrumental performances across the album. Also to his credit, Samtar’s writing boasts some genuinely catchy hooks: tracks like “Desert Creature” and “Fickle Fortune” are effortless to bop along to, and firmly lodged themselves in my head throughout my time in the mire. The weight given to the bass in the mix contributes to this infectious appeal, infusing a persistent groove under the action that reminds me of a walking bass line at times. “The Whispers” is probably the most instrumentally suggestive of The Dear Hunter; the intro sounds like it could be straight off Migrant. The glittering keys and jazz-adjacent guitar throughout are satisfying, though this track as well as a few others (“All You Ever Wanted”, “Vicarious Voodoo”) end rather abruptly.

Not unlike the boardwalk that winds through the bog near my home, The Bog of Cosmic Delusions is a journey replete with twists and turns, and a few unwelcome bogeymen along the way. Samtar’s strengths—his baritone voice, catchy riffs, and moody instrumental backdrops—offer stepping stones of real promise. But the trek is tripped up by unpolished vocal forays, lyrical clumsiness, and occasional lapses in nuance and finesse. With a finer touch and careful footing, Samtar’s next expedition might yield more solid ground.

Recommended tracks: Desert Creature, The Whispers, Vicarious Voodoo
You may also like: Thomas Giles, Birdmask, Mono Town
Final verdict: 6/10

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

Label: Independent

Samtar is:
– Samtar (everything)

The post Review: Samtar – The Bog of Cosmic Delusions appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Artwork by Gaia Cafiso

Style: Power Metal, Prog Metal (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Unleash the Archers, Epica, Stratovarius
Country: United States, Wisconsin
Release date: 31 January 2025

It’s been a while since I’ve been so torn on my final judgment of a metal release. On one hand, the Queen of Dreams sophomore album, Subnivium, accounts for many of the sonic shortcomings (particularly being disjointed and having a muddy production job) of their debut album while tightening up their songwriting and aesthetic styles. But on the other hand, the band may have overcorrected for their previous criticisms, leading to an over-produced, homogenous follow-up. While Subnivium showcases many dimensions of competency, it also lacks the secret sauces, innovation and passion, which listeners expect from works that are not merely good, but groundbreaking. I particularly care much more about a band experimenting and delivering music through sincere, artistic desire rather than turning in an assignment that feels like a final exam in a music theory course. Subnivium feels like it landed somewhere in between the two.

The album’s intended style is present at the gates: Vocal-forward, melodic power metal with a small amount of progressive songwriting elements thrown in to add a hint of sophistication to the music’s trimmings—placing itself somewhere in between Epica and Unleash the Archers. Queen of Dreams occasionally partakes in a mix of screams and growls, however fleeting and sparingly. One will also notice that the band members have incredible harmony with one another, performing in a peculiarly unified whole—consequently, for better or worse, most of their songs sound extremely similar.

Additionally, one will hear the particular sharp and punchy production job crafted masterfully by Alex Parra at Second Sight Sound. This studio is also responsible for the recent Arch Enemy and Evergrey albums, and for those who are familiar, the hard-hitting rhythm sections and blasting distortions from those are similarly employed in Subnivium; albeit they glossed the synths, lead guitars, and vocals to sound a bit prettier and more colorful. From a technical angle, the album generally sounds quite good and the notes all pop distinctly—it’s as clean as a marbled granite countertop. Though, almost all of the songs are written to showcase melody and bright soundscapes, the production job best complements the songs with the hookiest melodies, such as “Radiant” and “Shield Anvil.”

I find it helpful to distinguish between horizontal and vertical listening experiences: horizontally, we’re able to pick up on how music sounds in single moments, oftentimes more represented by scattershot listens, skipping around and hearing a couple seconds of tracks more or less at random, or by paying close attention to some smaller interval; while the vertical experience demonstrates more of an invested listen from front to back, immersing in the way an album develops over time, analysing its exploration of ebb-and-flow and oscillating dynamics. 

In this sense, Subnivium sounds great horizontally since one is treated with mouthfuls of gorgeous guitar and synth solos, often harmonizing, and a talented vocalist who contrasts her powerful cadence with the energetic, crunchy rhythm section. However, after a while, the band will appear to know only one pace, one tone, one tempo, and it becomes easy to feel oversaturated with the cloying and repetitive delivery. This is the primary reason that I believe this album will get underrated in end-of-the-year rankings lists. To many, this is a serious downfall—especially in the world of progressive music, people usually do not like hearing the same thing over and over. 

Subnivium’s lack of variety is why I particularly appreciate the scattered bits of songwriting diversity we do get from the band. For example, “Kiln the Forgotten Flame” is a beautifully crafted and performed instrumental that gives us a short break from the endless choruses. The little fake-out ending around three and a half minutes into “Radiant” is a playful touch that breaks up the monotony. Other small elements, like the occasional distant harsh vocals, random bass solos, sentimental piano outros, or the attempt at a longer track as a closer, are moments I’d like Queen of Dreams to get more comfortable with.

Overall, despite my main criticism, Subnivium is a fairly successful effort from the band—particularly since they are still early in their career. Queen of Dreams corrected the occasional feeling of disjointedness from their debut and integrated a clean, professional production job. They’re undoubtedly a band comprised of skilled musicians. However, if they are to jump from just a decent band to an amazing one, they are going to need to look at different sources of inspiration: bands that can build on the dynamics of songs to deliver more sublime kinds of experiences rather than simply delivering verses, choruses, and riffs for the sake of filling empty space. We have a solid foundation here; now it’s up to the band to determine what else they can do with it. It is still not too late to avoid being pigeon-holed into a legacy of predictability.

Recommended tracks: Radiant, Shield Anvil, Kiln the Forgotten Flame
You may also like: Helion Prime, Triosphere, Empress, Dawn of Destiny
Final verdict: 6.5/10

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

Label: Independent

Queen of Dreams is:
– Ally Scott (keyboards)
– Caleb Scott (guitar, backing vocals)
– Dan Love (drums)
– Lnz Prazak (vocals)
– Tom Brown (guitar)
– Sky Talbott-Settle (bass)

The post Review: Queen of Dreams – Subnivium appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Genres: post-metal, progressive metal (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: The Contortionist, Wolves in the Throne Room, the ambient parts of Cult of Luna
Country: Wisconsin, United States
Release date: 3 January 2024

Well well, long time no see. It’s been a while since I’ve posted a review, though I’ve still been around—albeit in a behind the scenes fashion. But like some sort of weird and less cool species of phoenix, I have emerged from the ashes from what was the charred remains of my drive to write reviews constantly, and all it took to shake me out of it was for a former The Contortionist member to release new music again. What can I say, I like things I like a lot, and I’m intrigued when they get mentioned.

Enter Notochord, which is born from the midwest as a new project with the original bassist (Chris Tilley) and singer (Jonathan Carpenter) of The Contortionist, as well as drummer James Knoerl and guitarist Chaboy Anthony. Notochord bill themselves as post-metal, an accurate enough description with the sensibilities shown in the guitar tones, vocal deliveries (mostly…more on that later), and the ambience used throughout (also more on that later). There are some elements of progressive metal in there, which are not so numerous as to merit more mention than that the riffs in a few songs definitely have a progressive vein to them a bit more than some other companions they have in the post-metal scene.

Aegis opens perhaps a bit hard for the balance of the EP overall with a somewhat nasty stab rhythm chord part laid over several layers of vocal and key ambience before working itself into where most of the EP lives with a dark ambient section that lasts for the remainder of the song. This is probably where my first detraction on the EP lies: the sheer amount of completely ambient sections on this (short) EP. I get this is post-metal and those posties love their soundscapes, but there is a line between ambiance used in a thought out compositional sense (Hi Language) and aimless ambience which overstays its welcome. Aegis has several moments of the latter, with two of the tracks being entirely soundscaping/instrumental post parts, and two of the remaining songs ending with back halves that are entirely meandering ambience. Ambience can definitely be cool and they meet that bar sometimes, it just feels a bit lost in its own sauce at times.

Notochord definitely shows somewhat of a range inside the genre space they are trying to occupy with the guitars. The drums have all the usual hallmarks of the modern post-metal outfit, with their laidback tom grooves interlaced some with effect cymbal accents and stop-and-start moments within the ambient sections. Over the riffier sections, they tend to have a bit more activity, a bit a la a Nero Di Marte performance of sorts, while also diving a few times into more tech-ish territory with blasts and slightly more involved fills than the typical post-metal delivery. Similarly, the guitars give you the tour of apartment post-metal lives in, though at times it does lean into some more almost Cryptodira type territory with its higher chord rhythmic parts, which to me are the moments I find myself wanting to repeat the most.

Vocally, we’ve got what Jonathan Carpenter has always brought to the table. The planetary destruction, cosmic concept type lyrics have followed him once again to this new band (read: this is not a dig at it, I’ll eat this stuff up) and are delivered with his usual see-saw from layered meditative ambient cleans to his deathcore growls. This deathcore style delivery is a bit at odds with the post-metal sound the composition lives in, though, but it does kinda work for the most part. In clean territories, his deliveries are an obvious harkening back to the way he used his cleans on “Intrinsic” more than “Exoplanet” in his The Contortionist days. Lots of layering and odd harmonies abound whenever Carpenter is living in this space. At times it seems like Carpenter has almost copied a bit from his successor in The Contortionist Michael Lessard, with the odd harmonies and even inflection in the voice warping a bit to feel much more like Lessard delivery than old-school Carpenter, not necessarily a knock at Carpenter, just something interesting to note.

Overall, Aegis is solid enough for a first effort in the post-metal space, though I feel like it is still trying to find where it lives. There are absolute moments it feels like this EP finds what it really wants to be, such as in the final track “Cognition Fields,” which exits from the preceding ambience into something that resembles an Exoplanet-esque breakdown albeit in a more post-metal tone and delivery. This is the song in which the harshes feel the most congruent with what they are on top of, and the later layering on top of the slightly altered version of this breakdown serves as a great closing to the EP. Were this EP more often in that space I’d probably like it even more, but unfortunately the way it is delivered now feels a bit too much like moments of great delivery and heaviness separated by often too-long ambient sections that self relegate themselves to background noise most of the time. Aegis for me succeeds most when it lives on the metal side of post-metal than when it camps out in the post. For those really into the ambient parts of post-metal but also wanna hear a bit of a slammy interruption to that now and then, this would be for you. For those of you that saw the names tied to this and expected Exoplanet or something similar, you’re actually looking for Prismatic.

Recommended tracks: Indelible, Abyssal Ontogeny, Cognition Fields
You may also like: Kayo Dot, Artificial Brain
Final verdict: 6.5/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Instagram

Label: Independent

Notochord is:
– Jonathan Carpenter (vocals, keys)
– Chaboy Anthony (guitars)
– James Knoerl (drums)
– Chris Tilley (bass, keys)

The post Review: Notochord – Aegis appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: prog metal (mostly clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Devin Townsend, Avantasia
Review by: Andy
Country: United States-WI
Release date: 11 August, 2023

Music is a serious art form. I do not tolerate silly, goofy, or funny; leave the tomfoolery at home. On my search for the most insufferably pretentious, self-righteous avant-garde music in the history of the entire world, I do occasionally stumble across the dreaded silly album–unfortunately. Facetiously, I want to say that goofy music does have a time (never) and place (the garbage), but silliness and prog are tied together at the roots in several ways, from the satirically funny Zappa to the lunacy of Devin Townsend both in the studio and on stage. Does Panda Kingdom appropriately wield humor to be next in line of a long legacy of over-the-top progressive music, or does it distract from the music within? 

Keith D (Arctic Sleep, Unearthed Elf) assembles a glorious septet of singers to chronicle the tale of the Panda Kingdom. Panda Kingdom is an attempt to maximize The Epic. The tracks all feature huge open chords, vibrant textures, choral backings, a large cast of singers, and slow, bombastic guitar solos. And for the first couple tracks, this approach works! All the bombast triumphantly rings out in a manner redolent of Devin Townsend’s Empath. The vocalists in particular work super well together, and even the harsh vocals of Koth Dolgomoru feel like a reasonable addition to change up the hyper melodic, major chord music.

But everything bad catches up to Panda Kingdom at once on “Thy Decree”: on that track I realize that every song is at the same medium pace, that the spoken word sounds like it would be appropriate for a Dr. Seuss movie adaptation and is skin-crawlingly cringe-inducing, and that the production is unacceptably loud. First, the middling pace becomes unsustainable and annoying, especially since the absurdly cheesy, saccharine music never once utilizes a minor chord. This isn’t the good type of sickly sweet I like in my music either, mind you. This is like snorting a packet of Stevia: a disgusting, nauseating sweetness. 

Next, the spoken word… my god, the spoken word. I know I am not the target audience for silly prog, but I can enjoy a bit of goofiness. However, when every track has so much cheesy spoken word talking about a ridiculous story I don’t care about and would rather ignore, I just cannot help but complain. Panda Kingdom and Tim Wells (the narrator) are ridiculous, and not in the good, absurdist way. If I could never hear spoken word in a prog metal album again, I’d be a happy man. 

Finally, the production. The instruments are all a bit hollow, feeling like they only exist as a playground for the vocalists–thankfully the vocalists do try their damndest to elevate the album from mediocrity with some stellar performances, especially on “Thy Decree” and “Thy Feast” at around 5:40. But the production is woefully, inexcusably loud with a terrible drum tone to boot. Except for the singers who remain consistently above the instruments, the guitars, bass, and drums become a sort of noisy mush. I hypothesize that this loudness is an attempt to maximize the epicness in a wall of sound approach similar to Devy, but Panda Kingdom don’t have the resources or skill to match his production. Moreover, with the pace being a consistent crawl, the production kills any other enjoyment, and Panda Kingdom quickly becomes fatiguing to listen to. 

I like epic music as much as the next guy (even if I like silly a bit less), and Panda Kingdom certainly give it their all. I won’t get mad at them for not even trying like many recent reviews. “Thy Sceptre of Regal Wisdom and Resplendent Triumph” really does nail the epic with its ending choral crescendo, and guitar solos throughout the album are enjoyable and triumphant. But I just cannot wholeheartedly recommend Panda Kingdom as much as I’d like to.

Recommended tracks: Thy Majestic Procession, Thy Castle, Thy Sceptre of Regal Wisdom and Resplendent Triumph
You may also like: Arctic Sleep, Geres, Max Enix (how have I reviewed so much similar stuff)
Final verdict: 4/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook

Label: Dripfeed Records – Official Website

Panda Kingdom is:
KEITH D as Froggus, Thy Panda King, and Thy Choir.
ARNAUD MENARD as Coyotocon.
MAURO ELIAS as Brewver.
CAROLINA PADRON as PieMag.
KOTH DOLGOMORU as Kat K’tuss.
TIM WELLS as Thy Narrator.
SARAH SMALKOWSKI as Thy Choir.

Music and lyrics written by KEITH D
All instruments performed by KEITH D (Guitars, Bass, Drums, Midi Orchestra)

The post Review: Panda Kingdom – Panda Kingdom appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Progressive Death Metal, Symphonic/Blackened Deathcore (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Fallujah, Rivers of Nihil Kardashev
Review by: Cooper
Country: US-WI
Release date: 23 June, 2023

Over the course of reviewing an album or EP, I will listen to it many times and in many different circumstances. One listen usually sees me taking notes so I’ll remember the specifics of songs and such when I actually get to writing my review, and other listens may see me treating the album simply as background music as I go on a walk or complete other tasks. No matter what, though, I always ensure that the first listen receives my unbroken attention. After all, it’s only fair that I, as a reviewer, contribute an unbroken 40-60 minutes to an album that took its creators an undoubtedly countless amount of hours more to write and record (and I wonder why critics get a bad rap). It is during this first listen, most often, where my enjoyment is either nurtured or destroyed. After all, the tree can only fall one way; do I like the album, or do I not? Except, it’s not always so simple. And thus we come to Vermillion Dawn’s Boreal Valley.

If someone were to have described Boreal Valley, the new EP from Wisconsin based metallers who exploded onto the scene with last year’s full length VVitch Den, to me before I had listened to it, the conversation would surely have ended with me drooling at the mouth and itching to hear it as soon as I could. They’d tell me, “It’s blackened technical death metal/deathcore,” and I’d blush. They’d say, “It’s faster and heavier than anything off their debut,” and I’d probably start to sweat. “Its title is a Dark Souls reference (At least as far as I can tell)!” I’d faint, the gnarliest riffs I could possibly imagine echoing in my head yet still meek in comparison to what would surely grace my ears when I awoke. It’s probably for the best though, that I went into Boreal Valley without any preconceptions because when I emerged from my first listen I was, to put it simply, confused.

Everything that occurs on Boreal Valley, from the intriguingly choppy blast beats, a la Rivers of Nihil, that usher in “Bestial Lullaby” to the triumphant, eponymous closer, is technically sound. The musicianship is off the charts – especially the bass– the songs have interesting and varied structures, and I’m constantly reminded of other bands in the genre that I love like Fallujah and Irreversible Mechanism. Yet despite all this, I never found myself really enjoying this EP; it would simply wash over like a spring breeze, pleasant enough while it lasted yet leaving me ultimately unaffected. I’ve thought long and hard about why I can’t seem to enjoy this release despite knowing I should, and even though the reasons for one’s discontent are often ambiguous, I have come up with two possible reasons: the EP’s mix and its originality.

I can already hear you saying, “Ah yes! Citing the mix: the classic music reviewer move when they don’t know what to say about a “meh” album,” and to some extent you’d be right. But because I have already put so much thought into why I can’t latch onto this release, I feel it’s only fair to mention the mix as the culprit of my dissatisfaction. After all, it’s far from perfect; all instruments seem veiled behind a fog of strings and ambience which leads to moments where the vocals, such as the cleans ending “Mourning Star”, don’t seem to gel with the rest of the music, and I certainly wouldn’t argue with anyone who calls this EP “brick-walled.” To the mix’s credit, though, the bass on this album sounds absolutely amazing, always just perfectly audible over the guitar and vocals yet never overpowering. It is a beacon of light in a vast field of gray.

That brings us then to the issue of Boreal Valley’s originality. To put it simply, this is a release that I struggle to describe honestly without comparison. Don’t get me wrong; Vermilion Dawn have their own sound, but that sound, at least to my ears, seems more like a conglomerate of ideas and textures already conquered by other bands than it does anything unique. This point is then exacerbated by the fact that the only reason I remember any specific musical moments off this release is because they reminded me of songs by other bands. It once again washes over me yet leaves me the same as I was before.

If it seems like those gripes do not align with the score below, you’d be right. For most other releases they would be nitpicks, hardly worth a mention, but for a release like Boral Valley that, despite countless listens, still seems to elude my enjoyment for no other apparent reasons, it is the gripes that rise to the surface. Perhaps I’ll listen to this EP in a few months and I’ll suddenly like it, or at the very least realize why I don’t, but in the meantime I’ll be listening to other death metal.

Recommended tracks: Mourning Star, Bestial Lullaby
You may also like: Hath, Last of Lucy, Irreversible Mechanism
Final verdict: 5/10

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

Label: Independent

Vermillion Dawn is:
– James Fetterhoff (vocals)
– Cody Stonebrook (all instruments, vocals)

The post Review: Vermilion Dawn – Boreal Valley appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Progressive Metalcore. Progressive Death Metal (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Between the Buried and Me, Slice the Cake, Native Construct, The Human Abstract
Review by: Zach and Cooper
Country: US-WI
Release date: 27 January 2023

Sebastian:

Hey y’all, this is probably one of the latest reviews we’ve done not a part of our “Missed Album” or “Lost in Time” series, however, there is reason for that. Firstly, when this album came out, we were actually more or less split as a community on whether this album was a hit or miss. And subsequently, we fought a bit over who got to pick this up to review. For those who are fans of this underground prog artist, I think you’ll appreciate Zach and Cooper as ambassadors of each stance on this controversial release.

Zach:

To the dismay of my fellow reviewer and second brain cell, Andy, I am a music lover first and a music reviewer second. Being a fan means saying “HOOMYGODTHISALBUMCHANGEDMYLIFEAAAA”. Meanwhile, being a reviewer is being ok with imperfection, no matter how much you like something. But, like many people, I’m not perfect. We are all not born with perfect judgment and perfect insight on an album that we listen to a min of three times before reviewing. There are scores I’ve regretted and scores that have improved with time.

Then there are some reviews where I have no idea what to do.

If you see that release date, then you can see this falls into the third category. See, my brain is split when I first listen to something review-worthy. I like it, I hate it, or it’s ok. Zon surfaced something in me that I really can’t quite parse as dislike, more as an intense disappointment. I tried to get my thoughts on paper, and nothing was coming out right. I’d delete, I’d try again, I’d delete, I’d try again. And eventually, I got so discouraged that I gave up and listened to the new Ne Obliviscaris for forty-eight straight hours. But it’s my civic duty as a reviewer to put these thoughts down, no matter how wonky or disjointed they may be. So, let’s get imperfect here.

The World is Quiet Here is a Subway favorite, and if you’re a longtime reader you need no introduction. Their album Prologue is one of our few 10/10s, and while I disagree with the perfect score, there is no doubt in my mind that it’s an amazing album. It scratched the itch of Native Construct and was a perfect time-killer in between BTBAM albums. To say I was hyped for Zon is an understatement.

Then, years passed. Nothing happened. Not even a tiny update on where along the timeline Zon was, just some pop-ins from the band on their socials to say “it’s coming!”. Eventually, I thought it went the way of the aforementioned Native Construct or Necrophagist’s 3^rd effort. And then, just like my 2022 AOTY pick, An Abstract Illusion’s Woe, a single dropped out of nowhere. In a sheer amount of hype boiling over all at once, I decided against listening. Their albums all flow like a giant song anyway, so it’ll be amazing in the context of whatever masterpiece they cook up next.

The formula was perfect. ‘Argo Navis: Solar’ starts on the acoustic rhythm Prologue left off on, leaving my eyes wide and my body ready for what could only be a 2023 AOTY contender. The first thing I noticed on Zon was the brickwalled production. Prologue was spacious, leaving every instrument some breathing room and their time to shine. Zon sounds incredibly harsh to my ears on multiple different headphones and speakers. But I’ve given good scores to albums with horrible production before. Some of my favorite albums are brickwalled to hell, so I can ignore that much.

However, what can’t be ignored is the new vocalist. Lou Kelly replaces Tyler Kotlz on vocal duties, the only member of the band that’s changed in between this and Prologue. And I hate to say it, but he drags this album down major points for me. He has fantastic harshes, but insists on putting these weird acapella vocals in songs that makes me scratch my head. He clearly has a massive range, reaching the lows of the late, great Peter Steele and delivering an amazing high screech on ‘Heliacal Vessels I: The Mother of No Kin’. But unlike the vampiric king of goth, he sounds shaky. His clean vocals sound deflated at most points–sometimes passable–but a large majority of the time, he falls flat.

Kelly isn’t my only issue with Zon though. So many moments stood out on Prologue instrumentally, and on my tenth or so listen, absolutely none have stood out from Zon. Not a single riff is sticking, and no section made the hairs of my back stand on end like they should have. So many sections almost work, but they’re changed out too quickly for the next section.

I can say something for Zon: I wasn’t sure I was going to get this done because this album is an enigma to me. There is so much I want to like, and I just don’t. I can’t be okay with imperfection when it far outweighs any kind of enjoyment to be had. As I finish this, the chorus line of ‘Heliacal Vessels II: In the Unity of the Lake’ is playing. I wish I could reach my hands to the sky and sing to the heavens an amazing chorus line that chills me to the bone. But all I do is sit here at my desk, eyes bleary, waiting for something to click. And I’ll just keep waiting.

Recommended tracks: Heliacal Vessel I and II, Aphelion
You may also like: Rototypical, Dyssidia, Omnerod
Final verdict: 4/10

Cooper:

Of all the various intersections of styles and sub-genres that fall beneath the progressive metal umbrella, there is not one so commonly divisive as the intersection between progressive death metal and metalcore. To some, this intersection marks the pinnacle of progressive metal – if not music as a whole – with releases like Between the Buried and Me’s Colors, Slice the Cake’s Odyssey to the West, and The Human Abstract’s Digital Veil (and I’d personally add Alustrium’s A Monument to Silence). To others, though, these same albums and the sub-genre they fall under are at best nothing special and at worst harbingers of the end of metal as we know it. All that is to say that progressive death metal/metalcore releases tend to be quite controversial. So when I learned that Zach was planning on reviewing The World is Quiet Here’s new record – a record that I had found immensely enjoyable – in a negative light, I knew that I had to step up with a dissenting opinion and preserve the divisiveness the sub-genre is known for.

With Zon, TWiQH unveils Lou Kelly as their new vocalist, replacing Tyler Koltz who sang on the band’s debut Prologue. I must admit when I first heard this news, I was worried; a sophomore release that manages to live up to a critically acclaimed debut is already a tough ask for most bands out there, but in combination with a vocalist switch, the feat is nigh impossible. Miraculously, though, any trepidations I had about Kelly were unwarranted because, as early as the sub-two-minute intro track “Argo Navis: Solar,” he unveils both startlingly operatic cleans and a wide range of guttural vocal styles, the combination of which is very much likely to please fans of Prologue. For others, though, this will be where Zon loses them. To put it simply, Kelly’s cleans are some of the most unique in the entire prog scene; they are low – as in Peter Steele low – yet they are just as flamboyant and daring as the sopranos of power metal. Over the course of Zon, Kelly unabashedly employs his voice to its utmost extent, and for many this will be a negative. I, however, love it because it feels like I’m listening to a man test the limits of his body much in the same way guitarists often test themselves through shredding or drummers test themselves through blast beats.

Beyond the vocals, Zon is not as unique, sitting comfortably in the space already carved out by the genre giants. Riffs shift, evolve/devolve, and return to form in quite satisfying ways, but I can’t help but shake the feeling like I’ve heard much of this before, especially during moments like the intro to “Heliacal Vessels I” which sounds lifted straight from Odyssey to the West or minute 4:15 of the same song where the ostinato riffage and xylophones would fit perfectly in any BTBAM song. Clearly, TWiQH is wearing their influences on their sleeves, which I usually would commend, but in a few cases like the ones I’ve already listed some listener’s may find the line between reference and replication blurred. Fortunately, these moments are rare and outnumbered by several jaw-dropping moments such as minute 7:40 of “Heliacal Vessels II,” the emotionally palpable “Aphelion” in its entirety, and the utterly unique buildup of “Moonlighter.” When Zon is doing it right, it rivals even the greatest this genre has to offer.

I have thus far been careful in my language to prevent my enthusiasm for this album from bubbling over into overgeneralizations about its place in the progressive metal scene as a whole. While my personal enjoyment of Zon has only grown since I first heard it, meaning I now feel it is one of the best releases from this subgenre ever despite – and maybe perhaps because of – its referential attitude towards the subgenre’s prior releases, I know that a large portion of the progressive metal scene will not share this sentiment. Additionally, the unique vocals create another caveat in one’s potential enjoyment operating in the same way as the issue of the album’s subgenre. Fortunately for me, I fall on the positive side of both of these issues, and therefore I can’t help but recommend The World is Quiet Here’s Zon.

Recommended Tracks: Ossuary, Heliacal Vessels: I & II, Aphelion
You may also like: Others by No One, Xehanort, Alustrium
Final Verdict: 9/10

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

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

The World is Quiet Here is:
– Lou Kelly (vocals)
– Isaac Stoltzer-Gary (guitar)
– Ethan Felhofer (guitar, vocals)
– Tyler Dworak (bass)
– David Lamb (drums)

The post Double Review: The World is Quiet Here – Zon appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: avant-garde black metal (harsh vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Liturgy, Ulver, Zeal & Ardor, Fire-Toolz, Sadness
Review by: Andy
Country: United States-WI
Release date: 7 April, 2023

The supposedly immutable can change. Cameron Davis, the entity behind the charmingly weird avant-black metal band Cicada the Burrower, writes Blight Witch Regalia reborn in her true gender. The album stands as a testament to what she lost and as a vulnerable exploration of feeling fully alive, now free in her identity. The flickering synths and trippy lo-fi yet organic production usher in a palette of new emotions to aurally paint with, so does the fresh take on black metal transfer the profound emotions that Davis seeks to relay? 

Kind of? The production quality, very much in line with other contemporary experimental black metal acts like Old Nick or Wreche, conveys a sense of ephemerality throughout the album, fittingly so as even unchangeable constructs melt away. On tracks like “Fairy Lights” and “It Was a Mistake,” achingly nostalgic textures reminiscent of blackgaze titans Sadness fight to the surface against the blackened wails. These moments mourn the death of what was, but suddenly, a track like “Aries, You Ripped the Child Out of Me” evocatively drives forward with a more involved drum part to carve the nostalgia away. The tension between dichotomies define Cicada the Burrower’s sound. 

The contrasts throughout tell a strong story of inner turmoil; the feelings of loss and excitement seep through. Yet I never fully buy into the emotions on display. The album shows me its best hand on the first song, the title track, and after that Blight Witch Regalia loses me more and more even across a tight, half-hour runtime. The jazzy horns and trip-hop beats of the first track really make it seem like Cicada the Burrower will break from the modern pitfall of raw-ish experimental black metal into a more aesthetically maximalist style, yet the crackling synths and restrained electronica entertain only briefly; instead, this is the black metal equivalent of lo-fi study beats when the black metal is on. However, the large swaths of the album without blast beats or harsh vocals render it as lo-fi study beats, especially as the drums have no punch. They are supremely weak for a metal album and sound more like Pink Pantheress (even my girlfriend agrees) than I ever want my metal to ever. The other bright, poppy elements will swing the album out of reach for lots of metal fans, yet their inclusion doesn’t bother me. Rather, their interactions with the more metallic moments feel forced. They don’t amplify each other but distract in a slightly noisy mess like Gonemage.

I hate to tear apart such an emotionally important album for an artist as Blight Witch Regalia is to Davis, but the songwriting and production genuinely don’t offer much to praise outside of a couple segments that break the mold. Otherwise, the emotional tension that should be here is never fully realized, as one would expect: for example, in a crescendo or sublime moment. Perhaps concluding with the album still pensively figuring out its identity is intentional, but I want the freedom, the reconciliation of gender and genre, to pack a bigger punch. I want a huge swell of tremolo picking and blast beats. Instead, we’re left with a shell of trend-following experimental black metal, failing to communicate emotion to me as well as I desire.

Recommended tracks: Blight Witch Regalia, It Was a Mistake
You may also like: Wreche, Contemplation, Gonemage, Old Nick, Unreqvited, Bríi
Final verdict: 4/10

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

Label: Blue Bedroom Records – Bandcamp | Facebook

Cicada the Burrower is:
– Cameron Davis (everything)

The post Review: Cicada the Burrower – Blight Witch Regalia appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Technical Death Metal (harsh vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Inferi, The Artisan Era 
Review by: Andy
Country: United States–Wisconsin
Release date: 12 August, 2022

As a lad first exploring the world of metal, I did not understand how a record label influenced a band’s sound at all and hardly even noticed that half the time I could glean as much or more from a band’s label choice as their fluffed up bios. That all changed for me one uneventful day when I heard my umpteenth The Artisan Era release and pieced together that a whole label could sound like various iterations of Inferi, and for the most part, that has remained true outside of a select few (Warforged, Dessiderium, Stortregn). If you heard Aronious’ debut, then you know that they fit The Artisan Era-core description perfectly, even featuring a standout performance from a member of Inferi. The only element missing is a Malcom Pugh guest solo. 

Irkalla is some coldly calculated stuff, the uber technicality sounding robotically precise. The twisted atmospheres of labelmates Aethereus collide with the shocking speed and jagged riffs of The Deviant Process as soon as the pointless symphonic opener, “Ananaki,” ends. The rhythms are wonky, the guitars are noodly enough you could comfortably name an Italian restaurant Aronious, and the bass, courtesy of Inferi’s Andrew Kim, is chonky and brings great pleasure: all things we’ve come to expect from The Artisan Era. Performances across the board are unreasonably impressive as solos apparently spontaneously generate with computational efficiency while flurries of blast beats and sick fills permeate the overly slick, The Artisan Era-standard mix. If you like the sound of the polished modern tech scene, then you’ll have no problems with the mix; if not, you’ve been warned (but already knew exactly how it would sound by the second sentence of my review). 

The band’s debut album, Perspicacity, sprinted throughout every moment; however, its bloated, hour runtime induced extreme listening fatigue. Thankfully, Aronious trimmed Irkalla down to a slim forty minutes, and as importantly, the band slightly restrains their performances, often focussing on more hooky, groove-laden tech when they aren’t going at 0.9c. Take the track “Nincubura,” which features catchy grooves á la Gorod until suddenly whisking the listener off on insane guitar tangents like NYN does. Slowing down for more hooks doesn’t take away from the technical insanity but rather creates more memorability. After all, grooves are something more immediately catchy for mere mortal brains.

Aside from the instrumentation, the vocal performance takes some serious skill by Brandon Brown during quick shifts from throat ripping highs to deathier lows. All the while we’re treated to a Mesopotamian history lesson–assuming you can understand some pretty crazy harsh vocals–the tracks all named after various gods (and Irkalla being the ancient Mesopotamian underworld). While not quite Oliver Rae Aleron (of Archspire), Brown does a good job keeping pace with the music, which, if I didn’t mention enough already, is fast. Playing at such high speeds may seem reckless to somebody new to tech, but this album is about as safe as they come to a long time tech enjoyer. Sure, it’s impressive, but I’ve heard every ace up their sleeves dozens of times before by their labelmates. 

I’ve mentioned the computational technicality a couple times, leading us to Irkalla’s biggest problem: The band at times sounds like if you fed one of those procedurally generated music AIs a bunch of tech death. Some of the tracks on Irkalla (“Elu Ultu Irkalla,” “Negeltu”) would be what I imagine the AI would spit out as its tech death album. Irkalla isn’t a complete bust, though, and some of the tracks do sound more organically written. “Descent of Inanna” balances its technicality with interesting melodic leads without sacrificing either, and album highlight “Enkidu” creates an excellently spooky atmosphere with its lead guitar while the bass leads provide grooves aplenty to bop my head along with. 
Aronious misses an identity of their own. They have all the talent to be awesome in the tech scene, but down to the basics, every element of Irkalla sounds borrowed from another band. They lack the unique laser-like precision of Archspire, contrapuntal insanity of First Fragment, or stream of consciousness songwriting of Dessiderium. That leaves Aronious with a well-executed, but overall flat, tech album which blends in with the majority of The Artisan Era’s back catalog. If you know and love this sound, you’ll get decent mileage out of this, too. If you get that tech itch scratched only a couple times a year, this probably isn’t the album for you.

Recommended tracks: Descent of Inanna, Nincubura, Enkidu
You may also like: Aethereus, Klexos, NYN
Final verdict: 6/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | Instagram | Metal-Archives page
Label: The Artisan Era – Bandcamp | Website | Facebook

Aronious is:
– Ryan Brumlic (lead guitars, keyboards, backing vocals)
– Brandon Brown (vocals, lyrics)
– Nick Weyers (rhythm guitars)
– Kevin Paradis (drums)
– Andrew Kim (bass)

The post Review: Aronious – Irkalla appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: adult contemporary, black metal, jazz (harsh vocals)
Review by: Dan
Country: USA
Release date: 23 April, 2021

According to last.fm, I’ve sampled 5,833 artists as of this writing, and I have never heard an album that sounds or cuts like Corpseflower. Period.

I’ve listened through this captivating, magical experience upwards of a dozen times by now, and still haven’t managed to quite put into words anything near as eloquent as what Cicada the Burrower has created here. This is a poignant and deeply introspective story about pain, about hope, and about transition. It’s cathartic and honest, emotional and beautiful, simultaneously haunting and uplifting. Placing myself into the mind of this artist while listening through Corpseflower has quite literally brought me to tears. This is art of the highest caliber, completely unfettered by genre or precedent, completely unbeholden to norms or expectations: pure, honest self-expression.

The full, entrancing experience of Corpseflower is hard to describe, to the point where I’ve missed my review submission deadline here at The Progressive Subway despite listening to this album on repeat, because I’ve struggled to nail it down. It’s a lush, gorgeous blend of jazz, black metal, and – in the artist’s own words – adult contemporary. The album artwork’s juxtaposition of muted, floral beauty with the grim macabre skeleton is quite representative of the soundscapes within: jazzy drums and uplifting melodies paired with gentle washes of distortion and harsh vocals in a wholly new and uncompromising way. Simultaneously familiar and yet utterly unique, it gets better and better with each listen. The hypnotic grooves make the album’s 30-minute runtime feel like a blink of an eye.

Album opener “The Fever Room” sets the tone well, with its soothing, hypnotic clean melodies, rounded, warm distortion, swinging drums, and memorable structure. The emotional intensity and darkness of the tracks gradually builds through the album’s outstanding and nearly continuous track-to-track flow, peaking with the harrowing chorus of “I wish I had never been born” in penultimate track “Psilocybin Death Spiral,” before the lengthy instrumental album closer title track gently returns the listener to a better headspace.

Adding to the richness of emotion within the music is the album’s backstory: Cameron is a transgender woman, and Corpseflower expresses the feelings of pain, self-discovery, and cautious hope that arose from coming out and beginning her journey towards self-acceptance. These complex emotions are real, raw, fresh, and tangible throughout the album. I’m no stranger to albums borne of this struggle – last year’s A Tessitura of Transfiguration by Victory Over the Sun is a particularly excellent and memorable example – but Corpseflower reopens those empathic wounds anew.

On the production side, at a surface level one could nitpick a bit, as the drums end up a bit buried and the vocals are a bit too prominent, but honestly, I wouldn’t change a thing. The unique production choices contribute to the album’s honest presentation, and help it hit home more effectively.

I can’t reiterate enough how unique and captivating this record is, and I can’t encourage you enough to lose yourself in its emotional soundscapes and open your mind to the pain and hope presented within.

Recommended tracks: all of them
Recommended for fans of: Oranssi Pazuzu, Deafheaven, Victory Over The Sun, Holy Fawn, crying
Final verdict: 9/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | Metal-Archives page
Label: Blue Bedroom Records – Bandcamp | Website | Facebook

Cicada the Burrower is:
– Cameron Davis (everything)

The post Review: Cicada the Burrower – Corpseflower appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: progressive metal, metalcore, technical death metal (mixed vocals)
Review by: Tyler
Recommended for fans of: Between the Buried and Me, The Contortionist
Country: Wisconsin, United States
Release date: 20 September, 2019

[EDITOR’S NOTE: This review was originally published in the September 2019 issue of The Progressive Subway.]

I have to start this review with a disclaimer: I am going into this album with a personal bias. I hate to do it, but it can’t be ignored. I have known about Pangaea for a very long time. My band has played with them, we are from the same area in Wisconsin. Heck, their bassist, Spencer, mixed and mastered our album (phenomenally, by the way) [The World Is Quiet Here – Prologue Ed.]. They are friends. Musicians I look up to. I am personally invested in Pangaea. And you should all be too. What they are doing is otherworldly. All of these guys are trained, professional musicians who managed to take a sterile genre that, in all honesty, was becoming oversaturated with “How heavy and angry can we make this?” and turn it into something forward thinking, wonderfully written, and often beautiful.  

Every aspect of the songwriting and composition is eye catching and memorable. Blending styles from all across heavy music. Michael Dionne’s vocals are versatile from the very beginning of Survivor’s Guilt, opening with a style that is reminiscent of a more Hardcore setting, and being able to go to masterful lows and screams. Guitars handled by Trae and Evan are inspired, complimenting each other non stop. Whether it be in the form of a dueled guitar lead ala mid 2000’s Metalcore, or small classical guitar interludes, because yes of course they are exemplary in that as well. Spencer’s bass playing on A Gateway to Nothing makes me want to quit altogether. And Michael DeMarco’s drumming on the entire album is perfection.

There are so many layers and things at play on VESPR, that it could be seen as almost too busy. There are a lot of complex things happening all at once, to where I often felt like I had sensory overload in the best possible way. Some good examples are in Survivors Guilt and Black Tower. Those songs have so much to express in them, they don’t linger on ideas for too long, it feels like you are being forced to have your head whipped back and forth, but everywhere you look is the next killer riff or vocal/guitar hook that’s going to be stuck in your head all day long. It’s a curse that sits well with me, but for some, it could come off as hyperactive.

This review is biased. Sorry. I promise though, this would have blown me away just as much if it was the first time stumbling across Pangaea. They borrow a lot from their contemporaries, but blend it in all in ways that I’ve never heard before. Every element works together. Everything sounds fantastic. This is one of those albums that you remember where you were the first time you heard it. And I’m so proud that it was made by people that I’ve respected for so long. Hats off, fellas. Don’t forget about us little guys on your way to the top.

Recommended tracks: Survivor’s Guilt, Black Tower, The VESPR Sessions
You may also like: The World Is Quiet Here, The Alpha Incident, Sunless Dawn
Final verdict: 10/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | Instagram | RYM page

Label: Independent

Pangaea is:
– Michael Dionne (vocals)
– Trae Titus (guitar), Evan Webster (guitar)
– Spencer Fox (bass)
– Steve Meyer (drums)

The post Review: Pangaea – VESPR appeared first on The Progressive Subway.