Style: dissonant black metal (harsh vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Deathspell Omega, Blut Aus Nord, Mgła¹, Misþyrming, Behemoth
Country: Poland
Release date: 27 June 2025

Polish art would have you believe the country is the most depressing place on Earth. Sculptor Alina Szapocznikow documented human suffering, fragmenting the female form and criticizing labor practices and war; filmmaker Artur Zmijewski looks into the traumatic past of his nation; and every metal fan is well-acquainted with the dystopian surrealist painters Zdzislaw Beksinski and Mariusz Lewandowski. Naturally, the nihilism of visual art has wormed its way deep into the heart of Polish metal with the country’s distinct black metal scene leading the charge, with notable artists like Mgła, Behemoth, and Batushka. Digging a little deeper into the scene’s catacombs, one will find K.M.’s dissonant black metal project Ars Magna Umbrae, full of existential dread yet fraying at the seams with the slightest twinkle of melody.

K.M. joins forces with vocalist E (Cultum Inferitum) to form a new band Thanatorean. Their debut record Ekstasis of Subterranean Curren picks up the writhing dissonance from K.M.’s main project, certainly, and at first glance is another inimically opaque record, styled after diabolical black metal icons, like Mgła and Deathspell Omega. On the surface, Ekstasisof Subterranean Currents seems like another solid entry into the canon of Polish black metal, and that’s that, end of story. And one wouldn’t be wrong for reading the record that way. The record opens on “The Descent” with creepy ambience suddenly racing into second-wave black metal riffery, swirling tremolos peaking their way above the seedy underbelly of the mix. E lets out well-enunciated beastly growls and gralloching highs across the record, cutting through the filthy, deathened black metal. Stormy bouts of chaotic noise overwhelm the senses at times like at the end of “With Tongues of the Underworld” and “Tranquil Trueness of End.” And throughout Ekstasis of Subterranean Currents, riffs contort unexpectedly to create a haunting atmosphere, permeated with dissonance. That’s the Polish black metal experience.

Thanatorean are more than meets the ear, however, and Ekstasis of Subterranean Currents is—dare I say—a fun record at heart. As opposed to the grim philosophy and anti-religious sentiments of the other bands mentioned, Ekstasis of Subterranean Currents plays around with death cults in their lyrics, utilizing dramatic vocabulary, camp rhyme schemes, and occasional dramatic spoken word (the final four stanzas of “To Abyss Sacrosanct” each open with an infinitive verb spoken before three short lines of E’s beastly harsh vocals. It’s incredibly sick, and Thanatorean don’t overuse the songwriting device). The attempt at high-brow lyricism is (perhaps unintentionally) funny as hell in a good way, the duo not taking themselves too seriously.

More importantly, the music is a rowdily great time. K.M. demonstrates his fealty to the riff as second-wave black metal and evolved dissonance collide—Thanatorean are at their most interesting and engaging when they experiment on the Ars Magna Umbrae side of the sound more than the traditional one. The angsty black metal musicians often still have excellent riffing, but Thanatorean separate themselves from their Polish kin with their occasional flashes of swagger. “The Descent” has a ripping guitar solo; every track has endlessly mutating and intricate guitar parts with silvering leads; and “De Profundis” and “To Abyss Sacrosanct” open with abhorrently tasty bass licks. In opposition to the complexity of the guitar lines, the songwriting on Ekstasis of Subterranean Currents is tame, with little variation in track-length or tempo among the nine short tracks. A few tracks also conclude with fadeouts, frustrating for the quality of progressive song evolutions K.M. has proven to be capable of with Ars Magna Umbrae. 

I’m pleasantly surprised at how Ekstasis of Subterranean Currents defied my expectations for it. K.M.’s mastery of warped atmospheres and E’s filthy vocals go together perfectly, blending to make Ekstasis of Subterranean Currents a record sonically evil but tonally more of a headbanger than a brooder-in-the-corner. Thanatorean’s debut is a solid proof of concept and a breath of fresh air for the Polish scene—I just hope they lean into a bit more weirdness going forward.

Recommended tracks: The Descent, De Profundis, To Abyss Sacrosanct
You may also like: Ars Magna Umbrae, Fryktelig Støy, Haar, Spectral Voice, Zhrine, Thy Darkened Shade, Kriegsmaschine, Negative Plane, Mānbryne
Final verdict: 7/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Metal-Archives

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

Thanatorean is:
– K.M. (everything)
– E (vocals)

1. We are aware of DSO and Mgła‘s sketchy ties and do NOT support these bands and are merely using them as a sonic reference. ︎

The post Review: Thanatorean – Ekstasis of Subterranean Currents appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: heavy progressive rock, post-rock (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Riverside, Lunatic Soul, Porcupine Tree, Airbag
Country: Poland
Release date: 13 April 2025

Sensory experiences hold tremendous power to recall memories from our past. Every spring, the first time I catch the scent of early blooming flowers in the warming air through an open window, I’m transported back to middle school and all the time I spent playing Final Fantasy X on a tiny CRT TV in the basement with the door left open for fresh air. Similarly, certain albums—and even whole styles of music—remain permanently associated with the state my life was in when I first heard them. Riverside’s music continually calls me back to my time in late high school, discovering as much Dream Theater-adjacent music as I could through free streaming on Pandora; so strong is the connection that any similarly melancholy heavy progressive rock puts me in much the same mood. Enter SubLunar, another Polish band with an equivalent penchant for sadness, putting forth their sophomore album, A Random Moment of Stillness, for our consideration.

It feels reductive to focus too closely on comparisons between distinct artists, but it’s actively difficult to discuss SubLunar without mentioning Riverside as well. At times, singer Łukasz Dumara sounds so similar to Mariusz Duda (Riverside, Lunatic Soul) that, on my first listen, I had to double-check SubLunar’s lineup to make sure Duda hadn’t secretly started up another side project. Beyond the vocal tone and delivery, the overall style and instrumentation throughout A Random Moment of Stillness is incredibly reminiscent of Riverside’s Memories in My Head era in particular.

Featuring strong bass and soft guitars, but with a lighter presence of keyboards, SubLunar have taken the dark, moody syrup that flavored Riverside albums of old (yes, I know, Memories was “only” released fourteen-ish years ago) and freshly mixed it for an updated interpretation. Although some barbed, distorted edges remain, A Random Moment shies away from neighboring prog metal influences while at the same time developing a cozy infusion of post-rock to further mellow out the atmosphere. SubLunar’s soft ensemble settles the listener into a gentle melancholy mood, perhaps depressed at the cruel emptiness of the world around them, but at least comforted and feeling just a little less alone since they have this beautiful music to appreciate in their solitude.

Supporting the musical mood, A Random Moment of Stillness presents a textual theme centering around contrast and self-contradiction as well as an existential sense of impermanence. Paradoxical phrases pepper the lyrics, expressing a fundamental impossibility in reconciling life’s pains and pleasures. Other sections create a split perspective, describing two slightly different points of view with successive lines that build tension in their opposition. “Falling Upwards” lays the groundwork with its oxymoronic title while clashing lyrical phrases like “We are the ones to stay / We are the ones to go” and “Apart / As a whole” build a sense of unstable reality where no single truth can be established. More than mere contradiction, though, A Random Moment of Stillness establishes a feeling of ephemerality, that our lifetimes and daily lives flash by with little lasting impact. The cleverly-anagrammed closing track “A Sun Blur” laments “Yesterday’s just a flame / A waterdrop in the morning rain” and later “Another day, another scratch / On the surface of the earth.” Whatever self-importance we may assign ourselves, the scope of time we occupy remains tiny and brief compared to the vast planet that surrounds and sustains us. And yet, this needn’t be a message of despair, as the closing stanza offers some small comfort: “All the moments, all the whiles / All the fingerprints of mine / It just couldn’t be / It couldn’t be / More alive.” As limited as our human experience may be, all the worth and beauty we need can be found within it.

If I have one complaint about A Random Moment of Stillness, it’s the lack of stylistic variety. Although every track is equally stirring and mysterious, they also all feel cut from the exact same cloth, like someone listened to Riverside’s “Living in the Past” and decided there should be a whole album of just that. While I understand the temptation, the uniformity is a key limitation of this otherwise strong album. Similar rhythms, tempos, and moods carry throughout the album, preserving the stillness for perhaps too long a moment. SubLunar’s performance flies by in a well-paced and enjoyable forty-three minutes thanks to the legitimately great talent behind it, but after hearing such mastery of one particular style, the listener is left wishing for a broader range.

Of course, it would be unfair not to mention the personal flair that SubLunar display, cutting through the repetition with marbled streaks of individuality. For example, the strong instrumental post-rock influence that takes over at the halfway mark of “Unmanned” sounds totally unlike the rest, setting the focus on a frantic, lonely drum part with gently rising and falling waves of pitch distortion, joined briefly by soft piano notes before finishing on a bright, piercing guitar solo. Łukasz Dumara sets a somber tone with his expression of the carefully crafted lyrics, but SubLunar’s unique character shows best during the lengthy instrumental bridge featured in almost every track. For example, “Attract / Deter” just before the three-minute mark—as Dumara’s heartfelt vocals fade into the backdrop, reverberating guitars echo his closing words “We aren’t made of stone,” reinforcing the message as the abandoned space fills with deepening ambient sounds and increasing rhythmic complexity.

The adjectives “calming” and “depressing” might not be common partners, but A Random Moment of Stillness proves to be a rare exception as it finds affinity in opposing concepts. Prog rock and post-rock vibes combine with thoughtful, poetic lyrics to produce a soothing yet emotional experience. Although comparisons to Riverside are inevitable, SubLunar retain a character of their own, enhancing the atmosphere with ambient and post-rock elements. The result, although backed by clear talent  in the performances, features noticeable uniformity in the rhythm and tone of each track and could be improved by greater variation across the album. Even so, SubLunar’s consistency provides a rare comfort, with gentle vocals pouring out deeply existential lyrics as accompanying guitars complete the dark yet soothing listening experience. What better way to contemplate life’s inherently contradictory and fleeting nature?

Recommended tracks: Unmanned, Falling Upwards, Attract / Deter, A Sun Blur
You may also like: Derev, Sisare, Inhalo, Hillward
Final verdict: 8/10

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

Label: Independent

SubLunar is:
– Łukasz Dumara (vocals)
– Michał Jabłoński (guitars)
– Marcin Pęczkowski (guitars)
– Jacek Książek (bass)
– Łukasz Wszołek (drums)

The post Review: SubLunar – A Random Moment of Stillness appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Death metal (harsh vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Decapitated, Behemoth, Mgła, Ulcerate
Country: Poland
Release date: 18 April 2025

More than just about anything in music, I love a well-paced, dynamic album with seamless shifts across tempos and textures—moving fluidly between crushing and gentle, intense and restrained, dark and light. I consistently reach for the type of album that feels like a journey, a vast sonic landscape to explore at one’s own pace, taking the time to soak in its many different layers. When the record ends, there’s a feeling of fulfillment, like you’ve traversed a full range of winding valleys and jagged ridges and safely reached your destination. 

With the aptly named Tooth and Nail, Dormant Ordeal offer the exact opposite: an absolutely relentless, inescapable barrage of blackened death metal. This isn’t a jaunt through an inviting aural panorama; you’re cowering in your bunker as everything around you is obliterated. Each time you try to move from cover, another wave of ruthless artillery blasts sends you back to shelter. Tooth and Nail isn’t a wondrous adventure, it’s an oppressive onslaught. So why, then, do I enjoy this album so damn much?

Dormant Ordeal have wrought a distinguishable brand of death metal that draws from several styles and fully adopts none. Their riffs have technical flair but eschew the fretboard heroics typical of tech death; dissonance is wielded with a light touch, accenting but not defining the band’s sound; and melody is a commodity to be rationed for the moments that require it. The music is pummeling, not unlike Decapitated, and a blackened edge cuts through all of Tooth and Nail, bringing aspects of Mgła and even middle-era Behemoth to mind—clearly, Dormant Ordeal fit well in the Polish extreme-metal scene. What separates Tooth and Nail is how punishingly visceral it is. 

The guitars of Maciej Nieścioruk drill right into your chest cavity and violently rip you apart. Maciej Proficz’s gruff yet articulate growls then speak venom into your exposed soul. Seriously, any time the riffs in “Halo of Bones” or “Dust Crown” batter that lowest string, I feel it. The speckless production retains a vicious bite, allowing each instrument to wage war on your ears with poised brutality. The down-tuned, overdriven bass rumbles the bones, and session drummer Chason Westmoreland’s inhuman performance bludgeons and shines in equal measure. All this, combined with some subtle ambient touches, makes Tooth and Nail one of the most sonically addicting albums I’ve heard. 

Fortunately, the album doesn’t just sound excellent—it has the songwriting and performances to match. Subtle shifts in rhythm, well-placed touches of melody and dissonance, and vocals that are somehow both emotive and atonal give a thick atmosphere alongside the incessant assault. Always at full speed, standout track “Horse Eater” cycles tirelessly among blackened tremolos, somber melodic lines, and choppier technical riffing, all bathed in a slight dissonant haze. Westmoreland finds fresh rhythms to suit each part, while displaying incredible cymbal work that ranks up there with Mgła drummer Darkside. Flexing Dormant Ordeal’s keen sense of timing, “Orphans” holds one of Tooth and Nail’s best moments, delivering a perfectly placed and absurdly heavy mid-paced bridge after nearly three minutes of blasting. “Solvent” then provides compositional contrast, building tension as clean, reverberated guitars give way to repeated distorted riffs, whispered refrains accent Proficz’s growled declarations, and the drums favor the toms over sparse snare hits. But make no mistake, there’s no breathing room here. The instrumentation remains violent, and when the song opens up, the tension sustains rather than releases. 

If one song showcases Dormant Ordeal’s ability to keep their death metal barrage engaging, it’s penultimate track “Everything That Isn’t Silence Is Trivial.” Following a rare bit of acoustic strumming, the band unleash their entire musical arsenal, keeping the tension and intensity high while coherently moving through about a dozen passages. To highlight a few, there are noisy siren-like tremolos backed by machine-gun drumming, an infectious bridge that builds into the album’s most impactful vocals, and an almost cathartic melodic outro that resolves with a final bout of blasting. When the track abruptly ends, there’s a notable feeling of exhaustion from this overwhelming show of force. Fittingly, a short, moody instrumental track (save a few whispered lines) with wailing guitars closes out the album, allowing you to come out of hiding and witness the destruction around you—a perfectly bleak ending. 

Tooth and Nail isn’t the sort of album I typically connect with, yet I can’t stop coming back to it. Its relentlessness and constant tension might be fatiguing, and it could have ventured out to further sonic territories, but Dormant Ordeal turn these potential shortcomings into defining features—a concise salvo with the production to make the shots land. So grab your helmet, join me in my bunker, and brace for another assault. With the rate I’m returning to this album, there soon won’t be much left standing.

Recommended tracks: Horse Eater, Orphans, Solvent, Everything That Isn’t Silence Is Trivial
You may also like: Vitriol, Hath, Replacire, Slugdge, Sulphur Aeon
Final verdict: 8/10

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

Label: Willowtip Records – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Dormant Ordeal is:
– Maciej Proficz (vocals)
– Maciej Nieścioruk (guitars, bass)
With guests:
– Chason Westmoreland (drums)

The post Review: Dormant Ordeal – Tooth and Nail appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: post-metal, progressive metal, sludge metal (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Isis, Cult of Luna, Neurosis, Tool
Country: Poland
Release date: 6 January 2025

Imagine drifting serenely through torrential waters, unbothered by the crashing waves above or ripping undercurrents below. Immersed but protected, you’re calm, undulating gently amid the ocean’s mighty forces. You find tranquility in watching the surrounding chaos, until you emerge safely as the storm concludes. For half an hour, Emovere, Obscure Sphinx’s latest EP, places the listener into this suspended state.

More than eight years after their last studio work, the Polish quartet Obscure Sphinx has resurfaced with Emovere, a lengthy three-track EP. The band is fronted by Zofia “Wielebna” Fraś, a vocal powerhouse whose silky singing and raspy screams sit at the center of the band’s sound. A dark, down-tuned brand of post-metal forms the soundscape around her, oscillating fluidly between crushing and calm; tidal-wave riffs and thunderous rhythms give way to shimmering bridges, only for the water to rise again. Obscure Sphinx composes with a deft hand, knowing how and when to move the listener from one passage to the next through seamless transitions; and the band’s ever-tight musicianship and feel for rhythm elevate the compositions. The result is simply enrapturing. The album is a cathartic journey—the word ‘emovere’ loosely translates to such—that’s awe-inspiring yet soothing, and deeply resonant.

“Scarcity Hunter” begins the album ominously with drums slowly pounding, a deep bass line following, and the guitar sitting lightly on top. Fraś’s vocals drone ritualistically, while portentous whispers accent the space behind her. Right as the track is about to reach the minute mark, it opens up and pummels the listener: the guitar turns heavy and distorted, accompanied by now-crashing drums and a thick bass you can feel in your chest, with Fraś letting out her first set of magnificent screams in a tone reminiscent of Sound of Perseverance-era Chuck. But before the intensity grows overbearing, the band dials it down and delivers an excellent instrumental bridge, flexing a keen sense of timing and showcasing Emovere’s melodic side. 

This measured ebb and flow between different atmospheres and dynamics is a defining characteristic of the record. The tracks unfold patiently but contain a wealth of instrumental nuance and never approach monotonous. “Scarcity Hunter” ultimately concludes with a long, Tool-inspired passage that builds deliberately behind Fraś’s elegant voice until it reaches a roaring, chill-inducing climax—one of Emovere’s musical and emotional high points. Another lengthy build into a climactic outro finishes the album in “Nethergrove,” but it doesn’t ring repetitious, thanks to fresh instrumentation and a dynamic vocal performance. “Nethergrove” is perhaps Emovere’s highlight: a thirteen-minute slow burner that meanders among harmonic peaks and depths before resolving in the album’s heaviest moment. 

Providing balance between the record’s bookends is “As I Stood Upon the Shore,” the shortest and most straightforward cut of the three. Its structure somewhat resembles a more accessible verse-chorus approach while still allowing space for textural shifts and changes in tone. “As I Stood Upon the Shore” is a welcome, enjoyable listen in its own right, and more importantly it exemplifies the compositional balance Obscure Sphinx achieves in Emovere—not only within each track but also in the flow of the work as a whole. 

The interplay between Fraś and the music surrounding her, enhanced by dense but pristine production, is aural velvet. When the record’s thirty minutes conclude, it’s challenging not to return to the beginning for another pass. Emovere’s primary drawback is that it’s an EP—if it ran for another twenty minutes at a similar quality, it would stand as a formidable album-of-the-year contender not a week into January. Nonetheless, Emovere commands mindful relistens, providing plenty to explore until Obscure Sphinx submerges us in its next sonic journey.

Recommended tracks: All three
You may also like: Blindead / Blindead23, Múr, E-L-R, Cavernlight
Final verdict: 8.5/10

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

Label: Independent

Obscure Sphinx is:
– Michał “Blady” Rejman (bass)
– Mateusz “Werbel” Badacz (drums)
– Zofia “Wielebna” Fraś (vocals)
– Aleksander “Olo” Łukomski (guitars)

The post Review: Obscure Sphinx – Emovere appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: avant-garde black metal, progressive black metal (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Blut Aus Nord, Dødheimsgard, The Ruins of Beverast, Behemoth (just the good parts of The Satanist), Imperial Triumphant, Heilung
Country:  Poland
Release date: 10 January 2025

The dawn of time. Now that I have your attention, fast forward a few billion years to the primordial soup, then a few billion more to proto-humans. Here is the origin of music, a concept so profoundly central to human culture that it’s hard to imagine a world without it. I strongly recommend reading Gary Tomlinson’s A Million Years of Music if you’re interested in the development of music by early hominids, detailing several theories about its origins in toolmaking and collective expression. This is all fascinating stuff and while Uulliata Digir don’t look quite so far back, they are deeply inspired by the ancient Sumerians, even writing in a language inspired by what linguists know of Sumerian. 

Uulliata Digir centers on an incantational energy, a hypnotic percussion that could be grounded in that ancient toolmaking. However, Krzysztof Kulis’s drumming is not simply a mechanism for tired droning; indeed, he is an animal on the kit with endless embellishments and varying patterns on top of the unchanging underlying beat. Each of the three true songs—there are two interludes—introduces a rhythm at the start and builds on it throughout, growing in magnitude and heft while vocal melodies and dissonant trumpets and guitars clash. The lengthy buildup in “Myrthys” is redolent of The Ruins of Beverast’s “Exuvia” with Uulliata Digir’s buzzing guitars and the animalistic growls of Michał Sosnowski. Providing an excellent balance to the gruffness, trumpeter Magdalena Andrys and female vocalist Julita Dąbrowska steal the show, the distinct timbre of the brassy horn cutting through the repetitious dissonant guitar parts and Dąbrowska’s mix of prayer-like melodies and shouts that sound eerily like a human truly in pain providing the main melodic contours of Uulliata Digir’s sound.

Although inspired by the ancients, Uulliata Digir adds a modern twist with that trumpet, inciting a weirdness to the band’s sound that at times reminds me of Denmark’s Dystopia and at others of New York’s skronky Imperial Triumphant as in the dueling guitar and trumpet solo of 5:45 in “Omni Dirga.” The production quality of Uulliata Digir is also quite polished, not afraid to get murky but always clear, especially bassist Bartłomiej Kerber who clacks away like a prog death musician underneath the ringing guitar parts. The whole package is like proto-industrial Germanic folk music à la Heilung but with a distorted guitar and trumpet twist, and the schtick works well. 

The strength of Uulliata Digir’s compelling ritual-ness also is the album’s pitfall, the ever-repetitive guitar and beat becoming tired by the end of the forty minute album, especially how horrible the choice of dissonant chord is; it’s ugly and sounds like the random choice of somebody picking up a guitar for the first time more than foreboding or eerie. Moreover, the project is wholly immersive to a certain point and then I lose interest around the three-quarter mark every spin. Perhaps closer “Eldrvari” is just weaker than what came before—except for a lovely a cappella bit around the middle that transitions into the heaviest moments of Uulliata Digir—but I believe it’s a similar quality as the rest, mostly because it sounds so similar to what came before. I am sure performed live this album would be an absolute trip, dancing in the fog trying to fend off Grendel or something, but I lose out on the experience of musicking¹ listening on my own. 

The brand of metal which Uulliata Digir peddles is always a treat when composed well, and I enjoy vibing out to something which feels so quintessentially human, hearkening back to our earliest ancestors (or the Sumerians). This project is forcible for a debut with strong performances behind the kit and dynamic female vocals, but it lacks the finishing touches of a project like Ershetu or The Ruins of Beverast, the repeated dissonant chord of the guitar growing flat-out annoying. Nonetheless, I can certainly recommend this as a fun start to the year for other weirdo metalheads.

Recommended tracks: Myrthys, Omni Dirga
You may also like: Amun, Dystopia, Ershetu, Dordeduh
Final verdict: 6/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | Instagram

Label: independent

Uulliata Digir is:
– Krzysztof Kulis (drums)
– Marcin Tuliszkiewicz (guitars, synths)
– Bartłomiej Kerber (bass)
– Bartłomiej Kerber (bass)
– Magdalena Andrys (trumpet)
– Michał Sosnowski (vocals)
– Julita Dąbrowska (vocals)

1. Since I imagine you didn’t read all of A Million Years of Music before continuing the review, the concept of “musicking” was first introduced by Christopher Small, essentially entailing that making music is really a communal effort including the audience, the instrument-maker as well as, of course, the performer. ︎

The post Review: Uulliata Digir – Uulliata Digir appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: post-metal, doom metal (instrumental)
Recommended for fans of: Cult of Luna, Pijn, If These Trees Could Talk, Latitudes
Country: Poland
Release date: 19 August, 2024

We humans, as social creatures, exalt the concepts of birth and new life. Whether it’s witnessing the literal birth of a child, or experiencing the genesis of a more metaphorical entity like an artistic project, there’s a special kind of feeling to those nascent moments. As a reviewer and avid music fan, I find myself extra invested in the latter kinds of origins, ceaselessly scouring spreadsheets for the chance to experience the formation of something new and meaningful like a scientist combing distant nebulae to observe protostar ignition. When I stumbled upon Polish solo act Ikaiora, a pseudonym for one Kuba Piszczek whose prior public musical output consists solely of a demo EP titled Some Random Shit, I could tell immediately that this was a fresh star about to be born.

While the musical polish understandably doesn’t quite meet professional standards, it more than suffices to allow Piszczek’s artistic vision to shine and to convey the emotions and moods contained within Ikaiora’s music. Beneath a Drifting Haze combines fuzzy post-metal guitars à la Cult of Luna or Pijn with a smattering of other styles, including the Tool-esque bass that opens “casting faint shadows” and the deep, dark doom metal tremolo scattered throughout the album. The end result is an incredibly expressive musical work, developing each of these influences into distinct segments throughout each track and highlighting the disparities within the musical whole. Ikaiora excels equally at producing individual snapshots that capture the audience’s attention and at building out longer-form suites, such as the way “casting faint shadows” mirrors its own structure with a soft lead-in, a more intense development as more parts stack atop one another, a beautifully bleak and expansive middle section, and finally the reverse to close it out.

The series of haunting standalone guitar licks at roughly the 3:30 mark of “casting faint shadows,” backed by little more than a faint drone, puts me in mind of Ode and Elegy’s masterful control of silence and emptiness in service of a track’s atmosphere. For one, it’s a gorgeous section of music, a dynamic and expressive performance filled with emotion. But also, the softness of that section creates a stark contrast against both the first and last thirds of the track, which opens with more urgency and and driving intensity and closes with a steady buildup of doomy distorted guitars before finally fading out with more of the same softness from the middle portion. Such contrast makes each portion feel even more vibrant and distinct, increasing the uniqueness of each mood expressed and showcasing Ikaiora’s lofty talent for songwriting.

While the elements that make up Beneath a Drifting Haze land with consistent high quality and clear purpose, the greatest common factor among the weaker moments is an absence of something unidentifiable, that little addition of an extra rhythm guitar lick or better matching the cadence of the percussion part with the guitars above it. At other times, the transitions between sections or tracks feel sudden and unplanned. Most of these changeovers show obvious care and carry the music smoothly between ideas, such as the “drop” just past 2:10 in “from within stone walls” or the steady, cumulative addition of more and more instruments throughout the long intro buildup in “casting faint shadows,” but not all do. Unfortunately, the latter kind are the far more memorable instances: the 3:20 mark in “from within stone walls” where one excellent and lively riff halts all its forward momentum as though striking a brick wall so a dour and unremarkable one can take its place, or the transition from that same track into “seeds scattered towards the flickering light.” I’m still not certain whether that transition is meant to be seamless or if the two pieces simply feature very similar drum rhythms in their adjacent parts. These stumbles can’t extinguish the impact of the legitimately excellent work which dominates Beneath a Drifting Haze, but their presence becomes all the more noteworthy for how much they differ from the backdrop.

Ikaiora is clearly a fledgling artist taking their first tentative flight into the world of music, and honestly I find it rather endearing. We’ve all been there, some time or other, just starting out in a new endeavor and unsure of what we’re doing or if anyone else will take notice, but just wanting to share something even if it means shouting into the great void of the internet. With the benefit of talent and creativity, Beneath a Drifting Haze has turned out to be a strong effort worthy of attention and response. Built from all the standard post-metal building blocks, this album excels at expressing bleak moods and emotions befitting its sparse composition, with only a few missteps where its creator’s inexperience becomes evident despite the overall high level of competence on display. If you, too, feel the allure of burgeoning artistic endeavors, I recommend you lend this one your attention.

Recommended tracks: all of them, but especially “casting faint shadows”
You may also like: Ode and Elegy, Shy, Low, Catacombe, Outlander
Final verdict: 7/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | YouTube

Label: Independent

Ikaiora is:
– Kuba Piszczek (everything)

The post Review: Ikaiora – Beneath a Drifting Haze appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Atmospheric Sludge Metal, Grunge (Mixed vocals, mostly clean)
Recommended for fans of: Cult of Luna, Conjurer, Alice in Chains, Isis
Review by: Dave
Country: Poland
Release date: 10 May 2024

A few weeks ago, I harped on how Heavy Rain’s desert-like atmosphere was done to its detriment: to keep it brief, Heavy Rain treated the desert imagery on its album cover as carelessly as the AI that generated the cover, the desert manifesting as a barren metaphor for how lacking in variety the album was. This week, I’ve yet again been cast into the desert by Sunnata’s Chasing Shadows, with the promise of “mind-altering, shamanic doom metal with a dose of grunge and psychedelia.” I’m a bit more optimistic going into this one, though: the gorgeous and haunting artwork showcases a ghostly figure in the middle of a black desert, staring into a void that’s only slightly brighter than the overwhelming darkness surrounding. So, does Chasing Shadows live up to its promise of mind-altering psychedelia or are we yet again left stranded among the dunes?

The best word to describe Chasing Shadows is “austere”: while the atmosphere conjured is not exactly hostile, it could easily be described as otherworldly, harsh, and uninviting, whether it be the droning Alice In Chains style vocals teetering in and out of harmony, the bass rumbling underneath Cult of Luna-esque guitars that dance on the line between consonance and dissonance, or the dense, occasionally claustrophobic composition. The desert in which Chasing Shadows exists is undoubtedly liminal, making you think about what sorts of weird incomprehensible things can exist in a terrain so harsh and empty, then bringing those things face-to-face with you: at times, you’re the subject of a ritual you don’t understand performed by people you’re not familiar with; later, you’re trapped in the middle of a sandstorm, unable to see anything except for sand whirring in front of your face as its intensity waxes and wanes; and at points, there is a relaxing calm as you luxuriate in the cold, dry air under a full moon. And that’s just the first three songs.

Chasing Shadows wildly succeeds as an atmospheric piece: it takes a while to get fully acclimated to the sound as the chromatic palette is fairly limited and compositions can be overwhelming at times, but Sunnata manage to create rich and evocative textures within a limited tonal range. Droning chants are pitted against a persistent drum pattern as intensity ebbs and flows on “Torn,” creating an ominous wall of sound that swallows you in a sandy riptide; dissonant vocals are layered on top of shrieking synthesizers on “The Sleeper” for the album’s most terrifying moments; and “The Tide” offers a sunset-painted respite from the intensity as held-out chants intertwine with sparse guitar flourishes. A touch of industrial/electronic experimentation can even be found on closer “Like Cogs in a Wheel, We’re Trapped Between Waves of Distorted Time,” which poses distant reverberating guitars against a simple and effective drum beat. Most effective of these moments, however, is the hypnotic opener “Chimera,” which introduces slow and sparse chants after an intense opening passage, gradually increasing in speed and building to an earth-shattering climax propelled forward by chunky mid-paced sludge riffs. Sunnata were smart to choose “Chimera” as an opener as it gently sets the tone of the album while still making time to effectively crush the listener by its end.

Every fifteen minutes or so, we are graced with an interlude. You may think that fifteen minutes per interlude is overkill or that one typically has interludes foisted upon them as opposed to being “graced” by their presence, but Chasing Shadows both badly needs respites from its intense soundscapes and also manages to elegantly intersperse these breaks across its runtime. Each interlude stays firmly within the album’s atmosphere and provides moments of interest while still operating as a palate cleanser between the more mammoth tracks: “At Dusk” is gorgeous and lush, “Adrift” is powerful and catchy, and “Through the Abyss” is haunting and wistful. Despite their comparatively ephemeral nature, they are just as essential a component of Chasing Shadows as the extended pieces.

More to the point of effective interludes is the question of pacing. The three interludes not only act as palate cleansers giving room to breathe between compositions, but also serve to tonally sequester different sections of the album. “Chimera” and “Torn” lean heavily into a droning, psychedelic atmosphere; “Wishbone” and “Saviour’s Raft” are overall the heftiest tracks with emphasis on muscular riffage and gritty, powerful vocals; “The Tide” and “Hunger” are considerably slower and more subdued, giving the listener room to breathe and meditate; and “The Sleeper” and “Like Cogs…” lean fully into darkness with the most disturbing and unfamiliar sounds to be found on the album. Unfortunately, it’s more difficult to tie the conceptual themes in with the musical ideas, but the impressionist lyricism works well enough alongside the musical backdrop.

I have very little, if anything, negative to say about Chasing Shadows. Through deliberate and well-paced buildups, expert utilization of a modest tonal palette, and tasteful execution of droning chants, Sunnata have crafted a landmark album in atmospheric sludge. Despite its somewhat inscrutable exterior, Chasing Shadows works magnificently as an unsettling late-night mood piece or as an accompaniment to the period after golden hour and before total darkness. While I would usually complain about an hour-plus runtime, Sunnata justify the length with a diverse yet atmospherically cohesive exploration of moods. Maybe getting swallowed by the sand isn’t so bad after all!

Recommended tracks: Chimera, Saviour’s Raft, Torn
You may also like: Hypno5e, The Salt Pale Collective, Nebulae Come Sweet
Final verdict: 8.5/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Official Website | Facebook | Metal Archives | RateYourMusic

Label: Independent Release

Sunnata is:
– DOB (bass)
– ROB (drums)
– GAD (guitars)
– SZY (guitars, vocals)

The post Review: Sunnata – Chasing Shadows appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Genres: avant-garde metal, instrumental prog metal, electronica, industrial metal (instrumental)
Recommended for fans of: The Algorithm, Master Boot Record, Neurotech, Space Mountain soundtrack
Country: Poland
Release date: 6 January 2024

With a name like Evelyn and an album cover that reeks of Vieux Boulognendue, I figured Multidimensional Transformation must be generic symphonic metal, no different than any of the other five hundred bands that ape Nightwish—probably replete with a hot, goth-adjacent singer named Evelyn that would make my peer Zach instantly fall in love, too. To be sure, Multidimensional Transformation has symphonic elements, but it’s really a smorgasbord of eclectic electro-prog, pilfering elements from the likes of Neurotech, Mesarthim, and The Algorithm. 

When the first section beyond the superficial intro exploded two minutes and nineteen seconds into the album—with me expecting a bland soprano—I about jumped out of my skin at the relentless industrial blast beats and electronica-suffused blackened tremeloes. While immediately abrasive, a slew of strong melodies began, performed both by the lead guitars (while they weren’t mindlessly chugging as they are across large swaths of the album) and by the prevalent synths which define Evelyn’s sound. Providing a range of styles to Multidimensional Transformation, like trance, electro, breakbeat, and synthwave, the synths easily rise above the rest of the album both in the background as an ambient texture and, more importantly, as an intense, pummeling vessel for carrying the main melodies like The Algorithm or Mesarthim. The best track “Programmed Dream” especially incorporates a more chilled prog metal-cum-synthwave section toward the end as an overall album highlight, divorced from the rather hectic main body of the album.

However, one can hardly hear the melodies for most of the album because of obnoxious, constant blast beats. I love blast beats more than the next guy (unless the next guy is Zach), especially over clean and/or chill sections (as in Neurotech’s excellent Symphonies albums), but Evelyn is far, FAR too much. Even disregarding the horrible tone choice—I mean, really, the echoing, reverb-riddled computerized drums are truly grating—they are far too loud in the mix, drowning out everything else. Moreover, while a sandbox of constant blast beats can be a cool texture to work on top of (see Plague Organ or even Bríi), Evelyn is far stronger without fully blasting, either when it uses more electronica-focused beats or even the exceedingly rare times it abandons percussion completely to let the synths handle the relentless forward march. 

Primarily because of the drumming, Multidimensional Transformation quickly becomes a fatiguing listen. Since the pulse is so relentlessly consistent, the whole album becomes a muddled pool of ever-mutating synths and blast beats, and the album contains very few highlights or particularly memorable melodies even if some are quite pleasant unlike a Neurotech or Master Boot Record release. Moment to moment, Evelyn is fairly engaging even if frustratingly loud (and even more than a tad annoying with the drum tone and some of the bland guitar chugging à la The Dark Atom), but taken as a whole, Multidimensional Transformation does surprisingly little considering how hecticly active each track is. Once you’ve heard half a song, you’ve heard all the album has to offer, AND you’ll save yourself from going crazy at a barrage of quantized drumming. 

At first I really thought Multidimensional Transformation was terrible, but it grew on me tremendously with its sweeping synths and melodicism; however, in the end, the negatives outweigh the positives, and listening to Evelyn became a nuisance. This sure is more interesting than your average Nightwish clone, at least!

Recommended tracks: Programmed Dream
You may also like: The Dark Atom, Arkhtinn, Mesarthim, Gonemage
Final verdict: 4/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Facebook | Metal-Archives page

Label: independent

Evelyn is:
– Chorus (guitars, programming)
– Asteria (keyboards)

The post Review: Evelyn – Multidimensional Transformation appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Djent (harsh vocals)
Review by: Matt
Country: Poland
Release date: 01 August, 2021

We’re back with the prolific Chaos over Cosmos, whose rapid fire EP release schedule seems to be working out for them. This is a “full length,” but you know… It’s 35 minutes, and 10 of those are a reworking of a previous track. The band continues to exist in a state of flux, changing vocalists, styles, and reshaping past songs. Power metal is entirely out at this point, and chuggy start-stop grooves have assumed control. Most of the album is a vehicle for inhuman Animals as Leaders-style shredding. Note my choice of words.

Look, let’s get down to it: These guitars are fake. I struggled to identify them on the earlier releases, but it’s barely hidden anymore. Anyone with a degree in sweepology could tell you this isn’t how guitar works; even Rings of Saturn or Brain Drill have legato notes, different pick attacks, etc. Maybe it’s recorded at 1/4 speed or something. Whatever method is being employed, something is going on that ain’t rock n’ roll, and I’m kind of blown away that no other metal review sites can apparently tell when a guy is playing a guitar or not.

Anyway, that doesn’t necessarily mean the album sucks – we wouldn’t want to be elitist in prog metal – but the composition has also suffered from this mad lust for notes. Listening to Silver Lining is exactly like when my Necrophagist-loving friend used to send me his Guitar Pros – robotic note spam for minutes on end. Without the marvel of the player’s skill, these endless arpeggioes just become tedious filler. Wait a minute… Is this what normal people hear!?

What this band does excel at, and has been utilizing less and less, is atmosphere. The best parts of the album are easily when the synths come to the forefront, e.g. the end of “The Last Man in Orbit.” This is evident in the last track, The Sins Between the Stars, itself a reworking of The Compass from 2019. Rafal Bowman manages to lay off of the gas for most of this song, opting for a more epic post-rock sound with discernible structure and climaxes. This version is unfortunately marred by Anders Friden-esque whiny vocals, but reminded me of the initial promise CoC displayed a couple of years ago. What was exciting about them was the spacey songwriting and unusual blend of influences, even if it hadn’t all come together yet. Since then, they’ve gradually dropped things that were interesting in exchange for more chugging and sweeping, and it has come to a head on ChuggaSweepathon 2021 here. I’m sure Bowman will find his compositional niche – he knows his theory and puts in a lot of work – but I’m not really on board at this point.

Recommended tracks: The Sins Between the Stars
Recommended for fans of: Animals as Leaders
Final verdict: 3/10

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

Label: Independent

Chaos over Cosmos is:
– Rafał Bowman (guitars, programming)
– KC Lyon (vocals)

The post Review: Chaos over Cosmos – The Silver Lining Between the Stars appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: psychedelic doom / post-metal (mixed vocals)
Review by: Dan
Country: Poland
Release date: February 26, 2021

I first discovered Sunnata’s dynamic, hypnotic soundscapes when I came across their 2018 album Outlands shortly after its release. It quickly became a regular part of my listening rotation, scratching an itch that nothing else seemed to hit. I had high hopes for their followup, and while I was completely blown away by the gorgeous aesthetics of Burning in Heaven, Melting on Earth, I wasn’t quite as blown away by the album’s first single.

Thankfully, this first single wasn’t necessarily representative of the entirety of the band’s fourth full-length, but does serve to highlight some of the album’s inconsistencies. I will also admit that, despite this unfavorable first impression, the song has grown on me quite a bit – a testament to Sunnata’s songwriting strengths. 

Burning in Heaven, Melting on Earth is a hypnotic, spaced out journey of… doomy, psychedelic, post-stoner metal? I see them referred to as “shamanic doom” but honestly, I’m not even sure what that means. The album is filled with droning chants, engaging melodies, and massive, terrific dynamics. The unhurried tempos and blissed-out atmospheres are perfect for the evening vibes I always have trouble filling. The long songs are each an epic journey, full of organic, subtle dynamics shifts that progressively build until you’re furiously bobbing your head and wishing you could remember how you got there.

Frequently utilizing exotic scales and vaguely Middle-Eastern percussive vibes, the band excels at crafting hazy, atmospheric, gently undulating, bass-driven jam sessions that gradually swell into massive bouts of heaviness. The song “Voodoo” by Godsmack keeps coming to mind as a reference for the tonality and mood of this album, but with a bit less Sully Erna and much lengthier, more dynamic composition. Trippier effects, too.

Overall, the vocals fall on the more esoteric side of the spectrum, and are at times a bit of a shift from Sunnata’s prior album. On Outlands, they were typically heavily layered, largely flat chants, set way back in the mix, and this suited the songs incredibly well. Not many other projects I’m aware of sound quite like this. On Burning in Heaven, Melting on Earth, however, the main vocals are occasionally more front and center, single harmony, and a bit more ambitious with the melodies. I have to admit… these “lead” vocals are probably the weakest part of this album. While the melodies are well-written, and honestly I find myself singing along to them as they’ve grown on me over the course of repeated listens, their performance is a bit off-putting at first. As the songs build into their emotional heavier sections though, they incorporate some harsh vocals which are quite effective, and there are plenty of chanted sections that harken back to the band’s prior effort. The heaviest (but still melodic) climactic moments of “Völva (The Seeress)” are definitely a vocal highlight, and I wouldn’t mind more of this style singing! 

As stated, Sunnata occasionally demonstrates exceptional songwriting skill, but unfortunately, Burning in Heaven, Melting on Earth is a bit inconsistent in this department too. Album opener (and first single) “Crows” ends up being one of the album’s stronger tracks, despite my initial aversions. Some of the mellower, more jam-session style tracks like “God Emperor of Dune” end up falling a bit flat, without enough meat to really feel satisfying. It’s enjoyable to zone out in the moment and appreciate the ride, as even these half-improvised jams swell into structured crescendos, but the truly memorable sections are a bit fewer and further between than on Outlands.

Overall, this is a unique and enjoyable album, with some standout moments, excellent dynamics, and engaging, lush, atmospheric grooves, but inconsistencies in performance and songwriting hold Sunnata back from reaching their fullest potential. 

Recommended tracks: Crows, A Million Lives, Völva (The Seeress)
Recommended for fans of: Om, Yob, Tool, Alice in Chains, Neurosis, unique vocals?
Final verdict: 7/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | Instagram

Sunnata is:
– Szy (vocals, guitar)
– Gad (guitar)
– Dob (bass)
– Rob (drums)

The post Review: Sunnata – Burning in Heaven, Melting on Earth appeared first on The Progressive Subway.