Style: Progressive metal (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Dream Theater, Pain of Salvation, Redemption
Country: International
Release date: 11 July 2025

If you’re a band with a certain amount of cache within the scene, you can probably find at least one reviewer who’ll give you a positive blurb. Some of the lowest scoring bands we’ve ever reviewed have garnered 10/10s from a spate of outlets we’ve never heard of and who may or may not accept payment in exchange for positive press (unfortunately, such cynical industries do exist). Now, I’m not accusing Philosophobia of any such thing, but to the brag on their Bandcamp that their self-titled debut was given “numerous… 10 out of 10 reviews,” I can safely say: we weren’t one of them. Our erstwhile colleague Nick was obviously feeling especially mean when he bestowed a dismal 2/10 on the upstart supergroup. A rival review blog, who I won’t name, claim of the band’s sophomore release, “if Dream Theater thought they had 2025’s Progressive honours all-sewn-up with the Parasomina [sic] album, then Philosophobia might just have rained on their parade.” Well, as self-proclaimed haters, we gave Parasomnia a 6.5/10, so this’ll be an interesting one to tease apart.  

Joining the ranks of albums whose art depicts people with unexpected things where their brains should be, The Constant Void sees Philosophobia return with their edgy take on trad prog. Clearly rooted in the trappings of such 90s luminaries as Dream Theater, Pain of Salvation (Kristoffer Gildenlöw was bassist on their debut), and even shades of Symphony X, how can the European group stand apart in a scene clogged with bands getting dubious 10 out of 10s from unknown outlets?

After a scene-setting intro—echoing voices, sirens, doomy synths, a portentous voiceover about death—via the creatively titled “Intro”, we’re treated to a trad prog riff that sounds, much like every riff in the scene for the last twenty years, like a watered down “Panic Attack”. Utilising some harsher barks and gifted with a catchy hook, “King of Fools” may well be the heaviest and most energetic song on The Constant Void. Instrumentally, Philosophobia showcase a nigh problematic knowledge of the expected tropes as well as the talent to play them. Riffs like that of “The Forgotten Part I” struggle for identity, and solos are performed with aplomb but are unlikely to stick in the mind—it all feels somewhat by the numbers, if well-performed. Drummer Alex Landenburg (Kamelot, Mekong Delta) is the record’s most valuable player, his performance dynamic and energetic, cruising through enlivening changes in feel, and magnetic grooves that elevate the more lacklustre sections. 

Tying it all together is vocalist Domenik Papaemmanouil who possesses a rather nice timbre, but too often ends up straining himself beyond his own capabilities, leaning into an overwrought and somewhat pained mode of delivery. Requisite ballad “Will You Remember” showcases the problem elegantly, with Papaemmanouil exercising rather elegant restraint in the verses, only to sound like he’s doing his level best to cultivate laryngeal polyps during the choruses. For the bulk of the record, he tends towards this overwrought, overcompensatory delivery and it’s something of a chore to endure. Every mellower moment is a respite for the listener and, presumably, for Papaemmanouil’s voicebox, too. 

Nevertheless, with all this in mind, Philosophobia aren’t without talent and they attempt a few different ideas on The Constant Void with varying levels of success. “Inside His Room” plays with wide open chords and a fun lead guitar motif. “F 40.8” allows the musicians to let loose in a madcap instrumental piece (and allows us to hear Sebastian Heuckmann’s bass work, which is most audible here and somewhat buried on most other tracks), but the rhythmic bed is rather uninspired, despite Landenburg’s efforts to add variety. Twenty minute epic “The Forgotten Part II” trots out all the prog cliches: a grandiose choral opening, brooding 90s synths, harsh vocal sections, a piano etude, and a lengthy reprise of Part I’s chorus. Some ideas are less successful. “Underneath Grassroots” forgoes percussion entirely, centring Papaemmanouil over gentle guitarwork and a somewhat incongruous synth solo, but the song comes off half-baked. Meanwhile, “The Forgotten Part I” has a gothy chorus repeated ad nauseam broken up only by a somewhat ill-fitting, frenetic solo section. Many of the tonal ideas are hard to parse, such as the triumphal instrumental section that bifurcates the balladeering on “Will You Remember” (amazingly, the mawkish vocal sample manages to be far more endearing than most).

What’s odd about listening to The Constant Void is how Philosophobia manage to demonstrate clear talent and illustrate clear performance issues simultaneously. Take the epic solo on “The Fall”. Guitarist Andreas Ballnus opens with almost Gilmourian emotion slowly amping up the complexity, the rhythm remaining judiciously restrained all the while. The solo falters when an out of tune double-tracked guitar harmony interrupts the flow, followed by a cringe-inducingly uncanny tremolo section¹, after which we segue into a pleasingly Rudessian piano solo which allows keyboardist Tobias Weißgerber to really shine. Sandwiched within an absolute album highlight is a bafflingly amateurish double whammy of jarring audio choices. The artless transition from the piano etude to the heavy riff on “The Forgotten Part II” is another such moment which makes your ears prick up, the lunk, ill-timed abruptness of it proving a jolt to the listener. I’ve focused on the negatives a lot here so I want to reiterate that these guys are really talented performers; their sins boil down to a slightly overcooked vocal performance, a lack of memorability, and the odd mistake. Taken together, that’s a surprisingly marring combination.

When Parasomnia dropped, it became apparent that Dream Theater were cannibalising their own discography for ideas and falling into self-parody in the process, presenting a dull simulacrum of their own zeniths. The Constant Void feels similarly troubled but for very different reasons. Struggling to break free of their influences, to bring inspired riffs and melodies, and still prone to some amateurish errors, it feels like a better album is yearning to break free from this frustratingly unpolished one. Nevertheless, unlike Dream Theater, Philosophobia’s best days are still ahead of them, and a bit of focus and polish could take them the extra distance. None of this is making the next press release, is it?

Recommended tracks: King of Fools, Will You Remember, The Fall
You may also like: Pyramid Theorem, Need, Aeon Zen, Vicinity
Final verdict: 5/10

1. My colleague Cooper, who possesses much more guitar-tech know-how than I, adds that the guitars in the double-tracked section are both panned in the centre rather than one to the right speaker and one to the left. This means that a slight discrepancy in tuning, which you can hear vestiges of prior to the double-tracked section, becomes emphasised by the production choices. Of the tremolo section, he suspects it’s been quantised; that is, digitally altered so the picking is of a completely uniform speed, making it sound uncanny. ︎

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

Label: The Laser’s Edge – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Philosophobia is:
– Domenik Papaemmanouil – Vocals
– Andreas Ballnus – Guitars
– Alex Landenburg – Drums
– Sebastian Heuckmann – Bass
– Tobias Weißgerber – Keys

The post Review: Philosophobia – The Constant Void appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Progressive metal, jazz fusion (Instrumental)
Recommended for fans of: Atheist, Cynic, The Omnific
Country: International
Release date: 30 May 2025

The fretless bass is an indispensable tool for tech deathers and fusioners alike. With its otherworldly and smooth timbre, the instrument adds a distinctly heady flavor to any piece. I personally can’t get enough of it, and neither can bassists Steve DiGiorgio (Death, Autopsy, Control Denied, among many others) and Jeroen Paul Thesseling (Obscura, Pestilence) of Quadvium, an instrumental progressive metal group based on the conceit of, “What if fretless bass but more?” On their debut, Tetradōm, DiGiorgio and Thesseling duel and weave around technical fusion passages, but are two Quads better than one?

Tetradōm finds a firm base in 90s technical death metal (Cynic, Atheist) and modern fusion prog (Exivious, Gordian Knot, The Omnific), grafting together twisted branches of instrumental aggression with smooth and jazzy chord choices in a signature double-bass (not that kind) sound. Many tracks are labyrinthine in nature, wildly transitioning from idea to idea at the drop of a hat. To glue this collage together, Quadvium bookend songs by reprising an introductory idea or reincorporating passages from earlier in a track. The fretless basses often sit at the compositional center, sometimes swirling around each other in a jousting frenzy (“Náströnd”), at other times coalescing in ethereal harmonies (“Eidolon”). The texture and sound of the bass is explored all throughout Tetradōm, often evoking in the quieter moments imagery of still, placid water gently rippling against a cosmic sea backdrop.

And like water off an astral duck’s back, Tetradōm’s ideas roll off my consciousness the moment they pass through my tetra-dome. Most tracks begin cohesively enough, then descend into chaos: pieces like “Moksha”, “Ghardus”, and “Nästrónd” introduce a melody that builds in intensity only to follow them up with a bevy of sudden, jarring transitions into unrelated ideas. As a consequence, any momentum that may have been established is halted and the revisited passages feel like separate tracks that were spliced and rearranged into a single piece. I enjoy many of the ideas that Quadvium try, particularly the jagged tech deathy fusion that opens “Apophis” and its subsequent piano break, or the tranquil floating bass of opener “Moksha”. But for the ideas to have impact, they need to offer context for a grander moment or lead to a central theme; a collage of cool moments that are bookended by a motif does not a successful song make. The production doesn’t do these pieces any favors either. The louder parts of “Moksha”, for example, are difficult to listen to as every instrument feels crunched into oblivion, none given space to breathe or any sense of prominence in the mix.

Tetradōm’s most successful songwriting appears on “Ghardus” and “Eidolon”. The former begins with a lopsided fusion drum solo that rolls into a foreboding atmosphere complete with creeping guitars and ominous, thrumming bass. This establishing idea gradually evolves across the track’s runtime, coming to a semi-climax with a pleasant guitar solo and a surprising piano break. “Ghardus” still gives the slightest nagging feeling of meandering but at least lays down a solid compositional foundation for Quadvium to explore their double-bass (still not that kind) frenzy. “Eidolon” features a breathtaking and otherworldly bass tone, swirling tides of purple ebbing and flowing in intensity to staccato rhythms and intermittent soloing. The songwriting is not quite as strong as “Ghardus”, but manages to explore its established ideas well and even includes a subtle nod to opener “Moksha” to bookend the record.

The premise of Tetradōm had me giddy with excitement, but its execution swiftly yanked me out of my suspension of disbelief. The briefest lapses in my attention left me wondering how the hell we got here, and even when listening with a laser focus, the songwriting approach is a largely inscrutable as tracks fly from idea to idea. However, it may be more helpful to see Tetradōm as a sketchbook that prototypes the possibilities of this playing style. With a bit of songwriting finesse and a continued lean into the strengths of the fretless bass, one can only hope that future Quadvium releases are a two-for-one deal worth investing in.

Recommended tracks: Eidolon, Ghardus, Apophis
You may also like: Coevality, Gordian Knot, Vipassi, Panzerballett, Barend Tromp, Exivious, Planet X
Final verdict: 4/10

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

Label: Agonia Records – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Quadvium is:
– Steve DiGiorgio (bass)
– Jeroen Paul Thesseling (bass)
– Yuma van Eekelen (drums)
– Eve (guitars)

The post Review: Quadvium – Tetradōm appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: heavy progressive rock (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Soen (pre-Lotus), Riverside, Wheel (the Finnish one)
Country: Canada / International
Release date: 26 March 2025

Making the leap in format from EP to LP is such a common pattern among the first releases of fledgling bands that it would almost feel unusual to see an artist take a different tack. Derev join so many of their peers leaving the proverbial nest with Troubled Mind, finally paying off the obvious potential talent shown by their slightly rough but still artistically compelling debut EP Leap of Faith. Derev bring a few influences to the table, combining some elements of heavy prog rock (think Riverside) with equal parts of dark alternative metal. Although I wouldn’t go so far as to compare Derev to Tool, the most direct analogy would still be to two other Tool-alikes: Soen and Wheel (no, not the epic doom metal band, the other one). At their most subtle, Derev perform with all the gravitas of Soen at their peak (it’s all been downhill since Lykaia, fight me), but the deep, dark tone full of bass and low vocals is just as reminiscent of the alt-metal edge from Wheel’s Resident Human.

My exploration of Troubled Mind followed the opposite progression as my time with Leap of Faith—where my appreciation of the EP has grown with the benefit of more time to digest Derev’s style and complexities, this new LP comes front-loaded with positive first impressions. The instrumental bridge starting at about the halfway mark of opener “Buried Voice” provides the first big highlight and demonstrates Derev’s significant strides forward in the maturity of their songwriting and recording since Leap of Faith. Their poised and careful composition already cultivates the same rich, clear tone found in the best parts of their EP, and Troubled Mind’s extra production polish ensures that every sweet or savory moment delivers its full flavor. The complex time signatures found on tracks like “Tides of Time” and “Room 9” foster a feeling of mystery and instability, and clever usage of shifting time signatures and interlocking polyrhythms thematically mimics the capricious visions of an insecure consciousness. The band’s other great asset is Adel Saflou’s strong yet luscious voice, which imparts emotion into the words he sings better than many genre veterans (looking at you, LaBrie) in part due to his great capacity for varying the intensity and the emotional tone of his voice. His performance is also aided by the lyrics themselves, which tackle poignant, impactful subjects like self-loathing, intrusive thoughts, and grief for a lost loved one.

Derev don’t hesitate to showcase instrumental performances either, as is particularly evident from the impressively intricate all-instrumental “Paracusia,” but weighty bass flourishes and rich melodic soundscapes of guitar and keyboard abound throughout Troubled Mind. The early instrumental interlude “Crawl Space” also sets itself apart, building a lovely cinematic atmosphere with synthesized strings and harp despite its short runtime. Even the drums get plenty of time in the sun, featuring several less common percussion instruments (such as the Middle Eastern darbuka which opens “Darker Self”) while weaving steady yet technical backing rhythms, a solid background that casts Derev’s cleverness into even sharper relief. Unfortunately, all their compositional trickery and self-evident talent isn’t always enough to elevate the listening experience of Troubled Mind. Outside of certain tracks like the aforementioned “Paracusia,” most parts of the album lack that elusive spark which would allow Derev to ignite their quality kindling into a bonfire, and as a result those parts remain pleasant at a surface level but unremarkable on deeper inspection.

Similarly, the lyrical themes can feel a little one-note. Although each song tackles a different facet of mental turmoil, they all take more or less the same approach in expressing their concepts, with a rich and malty melancholy mood accompanied by lyrics which dive into the inner struggles of whatever mental malady serves as the present topic, both of which would sound right at home in one of Riverside’s early releases. That said, the emotional closing track “Trace Within” stands out, flawlessly intertwining concept and execution with its lyrical structure and judicious use of a guest vocalist (whose name I unfortunately can’t find listed anywhere) to contrast Saflou’s dark vocal tone. Aside from the introductory verse sung by Saflou alone, each verse repeats once while adding or removing one of the two singers. First the guest sings the verse alone, then the reprise and the next verse continue as a duet, and finally Saflou closes out the album singing three lonely lines by himself—“To ease the pain / I call your name / Come back again.” The expression of enduring grief is palpable, each singer clinging to their few moments together and mourning their separation when forced apart.

In their progression from Leap of Faith to Troubled Mind, Derev have made admirable advances musically, but the specter of their inconsistent execution still looms in the background. Although never poor in quality, Troubled Mind’s later sections still betray the implied promise made by the early greatness of “Buried Voice.” The core elements remain the same throughout, painting metaphorical scenes of mental distress with precise instrumental tone and evocative lyrical description, but Derev struggle to replicate the impact of the opening track, with few, fleeting exceptions. The composition is clever, the performances talented, the lyrics meaningful and emotional, but without more demonstration of those transcendent moments the band is clearly capable of, it just isn’t enough to blow my mind.

Recommended tracks: Buried Voice, Room 9, Paracusia, Darker Self, Trace Within
You may also like: Diagonal Path, Inhalo, Traverser, Chaos Divine
Final verdict: 7/10

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

Label: Independent

Derev is:
– Adel Saflou (vocals)
– Armando Bablanian (guitars)
– Michel Karakach (drums)
– Stan Komarovsky (bass)
– Ran Zehavi (keyboards)

The post Review: Derev – Troubled Mind appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Symphonic black metal, symphonic death metal (harsh vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Nile, Fleshgod Apocalypse, Ne Obliviscaris
Country: International
Release date: 04 April 2025

Life in the ancient Persian Empire, man. Your neighbors are sacrificing goats to false gods, raiding tribes from the northeast keep your nomadic family on the move, and you—mild-mannered prophet that you are—just want to talk about truth, light, and cosmic harmony before being martyred on your own altar of worship. Is that too much to ask? Flash forward a couple of millennia, and now you’re the star of a ferocious extreme metal epic where your name is invoked by blood-drenched antiheroes riding demons into war through a burning Persepolis. Apotheosis comes at you fast.

Dark Tales of Zarathustra isn’t your average Middle Eastern theology lesson, it’s more akin to a narrative, fantastical version of the Avesta—if it were written by fireball-hurling necromancers on a desert battlefield. Putting music to the thematic madness is Belnejoum, a far-flung diaspora of metal mystics, featuring members of acclaimed acts such as Nile, Fleshgod Apocalypse, and Annihilator, alongside underground talents from around the globe. So, it should be no surprise that their first creation sounds like some blend of those groups (mainly the first two): the orchestral and operatic flavors of Fleshgod accompany the blistering blast beats of Nile, to the tune of warhorns blowing gales that feed the flames of fiery, blackened death metal riffs throughout the heavier moments of Dark Tales. Armageddon, or more appropriately Frashokereti, has arrived.

Or so I thought. On first listen, I was worried that the smoke from all of that flame was going to suffocate Dark Tales—until about halfway through, when “Elegie” eschews the bombast of its preceding tracks and treats the listener to a mournful, melisma vocal performance. Supporting the sadness are a deep piano, violin, and an antique cello built by renowned luthier Francesco Rugeri in 1695—and played by guest musician Jeremy Garbarg. Truth be told, this was actually the second track to slow things down, but it’s where a pattern is established. We are given two more breathers after this: the somber piano interlude of “As She Drowns,” and the plaintive Spanish classical guitar passage of “The Flames, the Prophet, the Tears,” which transitions into “Zarathustras Last Requiem”—an aching orchestral outro that is played under a spoken word lamentation, closing the book on this Tale.

Placed with intention, these softer textures don’t just break up the ornate grandiosity of the heavier tracks—they sharpen it, allowing the latter to stand apart from one another rather than collapsing into a cookie-cutter cacophony of the death metal variety. The eerie choral refrains on “Prophet of Desolation” hit differently than the ones in “In Their Darkest Aquarium.” The triumphantly marching riffs of “Tower of Silence,” punctuated by smoldering sweeps and searing tremolo picking flourishes, carry an entirely different flavor from similarly described riffs in “Upon the Mortal Blight.” Dark Tales of Zarathustra is a testament to thoughtful and deliberate sequencing. Filling in the cracks left in the wake of the crushing, blazing riffs are lush orchestral passages, with an organ, a ney, and various synths making sporadic appearances throughout the runtime of the LP. The apocalyptic soundscape here is not a world I would want to live in—but it’s fascinating to behold.

Though I find Dark Tales to be largely without fault, it doesn’t quite push into the genre-defining echelon of greatness. At times—never across an entire song—the vocal work falls into a cartoonishly black metal affectation, with its heavily enunciated consonants such as in moments of “In Their Darkest Aquarium” and “Prophet of Desolation.” Other stylistic choices don’t entirely work for me, either, like in “The Day Zarathustra Turned Dark” where the primary vocals are in the harsh black metal style, but without heavy guitars and drums to prop them up—leaving only the orchestral elements to do so, which feels increasingly cringeworthy once you’re into the back half of the song. Additionally, to my ear, the majority of the melodies lean on the more Western-sounding Aeolian and Dorian modes and minor sounds. That isn’t a problem, necessarily, but a small oddity given the thematic content of the album that had me expecting a more Phrygian flavor.

Such small gripes are forgivable, though, because this tome of Dark Tales is greater than the sum of its parts—which are already quite substantial. Belnejoum have conjured an album that provides both depth and spectacle, retelling history and myth in fire and fury. Peering into the flames and divining what is to come for them, I eagerly await their future prophecies from on high.

Recommended tracks: “On Aeshmas Wings,” “Tower of Silence,” “Elegie”
You may also like: Enthean, Lamentari, Blood Valkyria
Final verdict: 8/10

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

Label: Antiq – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Belnejoum is:
George Kollias: Drums (Nile) – Greece
Francesco Ferrini: Orchestra Arrangement (Fleshgod Apocalypse) – Italy
Fabio Bartoletti: Guitars (Fleshgod Apocalypse) – Italy
Rich Gray: Bass Guitar (Annihilator) – United Kingdom
Ehab Sami: Guitars, Production Assistance – Egypt
Tamara Jokic: Melisma Vocals – Serbia
Mohamed Baligh “Aswad”: Band Composer, Founder, Vocals – United States/Egypt

With Guests:
Hany El-Badry: Ney
Mohamed Medhat: Violin
Christian Correra: Tenor
Jeremy Garbarg: Cello

The post Review: Belnejoum – Dark Tales of Zarathustra appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Alternative rock, progressive rock (Clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Soundgarden, Stone Temple Pilots, Fair to Midland
Country: International
Release date: 21 March 2025

Two firehoses stand before two doors. One firehose only tells the truth, and the other only tells lies. Unsure of what to ask of the sentient extinguishers to move forward, you try to hear what’s going on behind each door, only to notice that the way to the right… seems to be playing Chris Cornell? Curious, you opt to go through the right door. You step through the darkened postern and—bam! Falling down a trapdoor, you find at the bottom that it’s not Soundgarden who is playing, but none other than international alt-rockers O.R.k. showcasing tunes from their latest LP, Firehose of Falsehoods. Fooled yet again by the hoses! Wring out your clothes and let’s discuss.

O.R.k. most readily express their brand of alternative rock through dynamics, utilizing heavy and funky riffage in their choruses while opting for subdued and spacious verses. Much of Firehose of Falsehoods‘ sound is deeply entrenched in 90s alt rock songwriting and melodic sensibilities, laying down grooves that wouldn’t be out of place on Soundgarden’s Superunknown or Stone Temple Pilots’ Tiny Music… Songs From the Vatican Gift Shop. In many places, vocalist Lorenzo Fornasari even sounds like Chris Cornell in his gravelly and forceful delivery. More progressive tracks like “Dive In” and “Mask Becomes the Face” eschew a verse/chorus approach for free-flowing song structures that prefer to slowly build in intensity instead of switching the ‘high-energy’ hose valve on and off. “16000 Days” even features a quietly picked guitar that swirls around notes not dissimilar to contemporary math rock.

From its first moments, the most immediate standout on Firehose of Falsehoods is Lorenzo Fornasari’s vocals. On opener “Blast of Silence”, his voice ranges from restrained and quiet in the verses to powerful and gritty during the chorus. “Mask Becomes the Face” also features many compelling vocal lines, with defeated callouts of ‘I might have been invisible the whole time’, complete with soulful vocal riffing that soars into the stratosphere by its end. Many of Firehose of Falsehoods’ best moments are led by Fornasari’s commanding vocal performance, punctuating tracks with his emphatic delivery. However, when Fornasari steps out of his Cornellisms, the results are more mixed. “Hello Mother” features powerful and roaring vocals as he screams ‘I AM NOT COMING HOME!’ during the track’s most intense moment, but the enunciation and timbre during the verses are strange and feel kind of mushy, coming across as uncaring and slurred. “16000 Days” suffers from this same problem, with poorly enunciated vocals sitting on top of less than compelling instrumentation, dashing the momentum that could have been built going into its otherwise cinematic chorus. While Fornasari’s delivery is likely an intentional lean into the ironic detachment that painted much of the 90s’ rock sensibilities, the end result generally falls flat on Firehose of Falsehoods.

The instrumentals are wont to fall into the same pattern as the vocals: while most every track has a few enjoyable moments, a collection of enjoyable ideas does not a good song make. Firehose of Falsehoods suffers overall from a lack of punch: despite the generous dynamics in songwriting, the more bullish moments fail to really soar, and the more understated moments often lack interest, in most cases leaving me waiting for the chorus before I tune back in. Even in the presence of fun grooves on “Blast of Silence” and “The Other Side” and the cinematic splashes of “PUTFP” and “16000 Days”, a certain X-factor is missing that prevents O.R.k. from sticking the dismount—unable to break through ‘enjoyability’ into something truly compelling. Ironically enough, the longest track, “Dive in”, does the best job of supporting its song structure by introducing a slow build into driving drum work, Tool-esque melodies, and lively staccato guitars. With some extra dynamic range in the mastering, its climaxes would hit considerably harder, but the track itself shows promise in its songwriting approach.

While I undoubtedly appreciate the Soundgarden-flavored inspiration on Firehose of Falsehoods, the record as a whole leaves me wanting throughout: the vocals are sometimes excellent, the instrumentation is sometimes fun and groovy, but few songs are able to hold themselves together and maintain interest for their entire runtime. Additionally, though the use of dynamics is appreciated, more work is needed to establish cohesion between Firehose of Falsehoods’ louder and quieter moments. The firehose was, indeed, filled with falsehoods instead of water, and now the burning house is doomed.

Recommended tracks: Blast of Silence, Dive In, Hello Mother
You may also like: Fen, Orion, Mile Marker Zero, Advent Horizon
Final verdict: 6/10

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

Label: KScope Music – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

O.R.k. is:
– Lorenzo Fornasari (vocals, keyboards)
– Carmelo Pipitone (guitars)
– Colin Edwin (bass)
– Pat Mastelotto (drums)

The post Review: O.R.k. – Firehose of Falsehoods appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: technical death metal, progressive death metal, “avant-garde” metal (mostly harsh vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Death, The World Is Quiet Here
Country: international
Release date: 9 January 2025

The internet can be a wonderful place to meet new friends (like my Subway peeps), learn things from the vast libraries and array of knowledge, and collaborate with people around the globe. The internet is also a horrible cesspit of evil misinformation and porn; social media and especially short-form content are ruining attention spans of children and adults across the world; and Chat-GPT is dystopian (I won’t field any disagreements). Implant Soul met online and decided to collab, the project formed by a couple Ukrainian musicians and an Indonesian musician with inspiration from a Norwegian one. Artefact is the resulting album and proof not every internet collaboration is a beautiful thing.

Self-described on Bandcamp as “avant-garde METAL,” Implant Soul are definitely not that, playing a slightly proggy take on technical death metal similar in style to mid-era Death. Except for occasional herky-jerky trumpet solos (which are a really cool replacement for the traditional guitar solo), the only avant-garde aspect of Artefact is the production—which verges from unbearably loud to too quiet from track to track. The problem is especially noticable with regards to the godawful clean vocals of Eugene Robinson (who came up with the original idea of Implant Soul) on “Ecstasy of Flame” and “Like Smoke,” the first two tracks written for Artefact. His wails and “oohs” sound spookily similar to a cat in heat and are woefully obnoxious. Moreover, they’re produced incredibly loudly over the top of the instrumentation—so loudly, in fact, that they often clip. His “singing” absolutely murders the two tracks he vocalizes over, and, in an instant, 2/7 of the album is rendered unlistenable.

Since Artefact is death metal, Implant Soul worship the almighty riff, naturally. Most of the release is a brisk tempo on the slower end of tech death, and the guitar performances of Ivan Lozovsky are agile but not virtuosic. As mentioned, the trumpet solos stand out far more than any guitar parts, but bassist Tata Early does a sweet job at holding down the lower end, even taking the lead on some strong riffs like at the end of “The Infernal Crux.” Not many other lead moments really stick out from any of the instrumentalists, the performances just slightly better than your average death metal release, mostly because they add that tinge of Death-y prog. The final permanent member, drummer Dmitriy Kim, mostly just blasts without remorse for the most part; if he used a tad more finesse and varied up his rhythms more, I think that Artefact would be stronger. 

Graciously, the other five tracks without Robinson demand much more attention; the other clean vocal performances are much more tolerable. The latter half of “The Infernal Crux” features ominous chanting, and “Drawn to the Flame” boasts a stellar performance from Kyle Thomas of Exhorder fame—gritty but powerful with a tone mixing heavy metal swagger and the rugged edge of good thrash cleans. Each track (except the two with Robinson, whyyyyy) has a different guest vocalist, and they set the tone for each track. However, this structure does lead to a feeling of disjointedness across Artefact, and the album almost comes across as a label-sampler promo rather than a coherent release from a single band. I appreciate that each vocalist gets a time to shine, but I wish that the compositional style didn’t change so drastically from song to song. Closer “Binded by Tendrils” even verges on dissodeath, fitting since Will Smith (ex-Artifical Brain, Afterbirth) takes the mic. 

Tech death is my jam, but unfortunately not every album is gonna be a heavy hitter, and Implant Soul shoot themselves in the foot with several of their more, ahem, “avant-garde” choices. Implant Soul need significantly more focus for a follow-up because although they have talent, their songwriting, album structuring, and production are a barrier between wanting to listen and yet another death metal album in the discard pile. I guess that’s what paying for features to center your entire album around does for you instead of focusing on your own sound.

Recommended tracks: Drawn to the Flame, Binded by Tendrils
You may also like: Overtoun, Replacire, Moral Collapse
Final verdict: 4/10

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

Label: independent

Implant Soul is:
– Tata Early (bass)
– Dmitriy Kim (drums)
– Ivan Lozovsky (guitars)

The post Review: Implant Soul – Artefact appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: power metal, deathcore (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Dragonforce, Inferi, Unleash the Archers, Worm Shephard, Brojob
Country: International
Release date: 1 November 2024

“My liege, the great dragon Xerdym has been spotted at the edge of our border. Reports claim that he has somehow gained access to The Profane Tomb of Nefren’kah and in it found the artifact known to humans as simply the Deathcore.”

I turned, the crest upon my chest plate gleaming ruby red in the waning sunlight, a stark reminder of my Abbarathian royal bloodline and of my holy duty to my people. Beneath its sheathe, the sword at my hip, Heartseeker, held a long unquenched thirst for the blood of a mighty beast. Forged from the legendary power metal, no sword dared match its sheen or cutting edge. The mere sight of it had inspired generations of bards to belt and strum away at ludicrous speeds. But long days in the castle had left me haggard, and yet I shed that visage like a lizard’s skin at the prospect of adventure. As the waning rays of the crimson sun met the tears in my eyes, my gruff, commanding—yet sensual—voice spoke, “Rally the men. Tonight we feast on Dragoncorpse.”

Not since The Drakketh Saga, had I left the castle walls. My nostrils, long too accustomed to the dank and musty odors of Medieval life, drank the fresh air eagerly and I broke my steed into a familiar gallop. Past fields and forests my company sped, the wind at our backs guiding me and my power metal blade towards adventure. But we quickly realized all was not all as it seems.

The taint of the Deathcore had begun to take hold of the land, and cataclysmically heavy breakdowns in reality were present at every turn. From those breakdowns, emerged vicious harpies that shrieked and pounded their awful drums at every given opportunity. Thankfully, my bard is quite adept with his lute, and was able to match each moment of the harpy’s ferocity with equal moments of catchy melodicism. He’s also quite the songbird, with a falsetto to make even the choirboys blush. At that moment, I knew this quest would long be recalled at feasts and campfires alike. 

Still, “A Quest For Truth” had only just begun, so I soldiered on. Perhaps the notion was merely a “Whisper on the Wind,” but in my heart I already knew the truth. While I was pontificating, my company and I covered vast distances, careful when we came upon more breakdowns and yet growing more daring with each step. Finally, we came upon him, the great dragon Xerdym, mighty Deathcore in hand. 

With naught but a whip of the beast’s tail, great swathes of my company were slain. Unable to hear my bard’s inspiring songs, men cried, broken underneath the weight of their armor and steeds. And still I stood facing Xerdym, his great maw rumbling with the makings of balefire. I bared Heartseeker, the power metal blade glinting the dawnlight and reverberating with the memories of adventures passed. At that moment, the dragon Xerdym knew only two things: “Fear and Hunger.”

I rushed the beast with vigor casting down Deathcore harpy’s with naught but suggestions from Heartseeker. Between each pounding of my heart I could hear my bard wailing and strumming away over the din of the harpy’s screams. I dodged columns of flame and scales and slowly but surely closed the distance towards Xerdym. He writhed in the light of the power metal blade, but so did I amongst the taint of the Deathcore. As the blade earned its moniker, so did Xerdym claim another victim. Would this tale be known as The Fall of House Abbarath. It would so seem, and yet I had produced a Dragoncorpse.

Recommended tracks: A Quest for Truth, Fear and Hunger
You may also like: Obsidious, Demonic Resurrection
Final verdict: 8/10

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

Label: Shattered Earth Records – Facebook | Official Website

Dragoncorpse is:
– Noah Nikolas Laidlaw (bass)
– Justin Gogan (drums)
– Kris Chayer (guitars)
– Mardy Leith (vocals)
– Mark Marin (orchestrations)

The post Review: Dragoncorpse – The Fall of House Abbarath appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: progressive rock, progressive pop, art rock (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: new Leprous, Agent Fresco, Porcupine Tree
Country: international
Release date: 20 September 2024

My fellow reviewer, Christopher, reviewed Haven of Echoes’ debut The Indifferent Stars a couple years ago, and despite his reasonable 7.5/10, I actually enjoyed the album more than he did, so in a rare move in the reviewing game—the transferring of the reviewing torch—here I am after to tackle Memento Vivere, the international group’s sophomore album. At only four tracks ranging from eight to fourteen minutes, the progressive art rockers have upped their ambition to deal with themes of impermanence and, as the title states, remembering to live. Do Haven of Echoes pluck my heartstrings with their progressive art rock twice in a row?

Still predominantly the same aesthetic, Haven of Echoes use electric harp, synths, and treble-y vocals to create pensive pieces. Occasionally rawer instrumentation slips through the slick modern production and electric, modern Leprous-y pop—the solo at 9:45 in “Non Sum, Non Curo” is a clear highlight as well as the drumming patterns at 6:00 into “It Walks Among Us”—but otherwise Memento Vivere is content to build off of simple ideas into more complex layerings, preferring emotional complexity to flashy instrumentals. To capture a feeling of impermanence, Haven of Echoes balance yearning nostalgia with a tinge of hope throughout the meandering, weighty epics. With their slow-burning progressions, the tracks on Memento Vivere typically all flip-flop between aching, slow atmospheric sections through crescendos to more passionate, fiery climaxes (and choruses in the shorter tracks).

The atmospheric sections are pleasant and induce a sensation of timeless weightlessness through their synths and harp, Haven of Echoes are masters of eliciting complicated emotions from the listener. However, the vast majority of the album is spent aimlessly meandering through pretty progressions, and the sensation can only persist for so long. By halfway through the eighteen minute opener “Non Sum, Non Curo,” I’m, regrettably, already bored of the etherealities of Haven of Echoes. The issue is compounded by vocalist Paul Sadler: while his lower tone is buttery and rich, he spends more time in his upper register which is whiney, his delivery lacking in range. Although Sadler is clearly talented, he falls on the falsetto delivery as a crutch much like Einar Solberg (Leprous), but unlike Einar, he doesn’t have the vocal agility to rely upon it for so long. Lead single “Assimilation” and “Ad Infinitum” in particular rely on this schtick for a seemingly endless period of time. The emotional core of Memento Vivere at large evaporates before the lengthy atmospheres progress, leaving the album seemingly aimless at points. 

At the climaxes, Sadler tries his hardest to add some grit to his vocal performance, and the instruments become much more engaging, actually adding in some rock elements, but it’s too little too late—the droning, monotonous parts have already zapped out my engagement with the tracks beyond reconciliation. The sound is pretty for snippets, and the climaxes in isolation are heartfelt moments with sincerity in their execution, yet Haven of Echoes need significantly more focus in their songwriting like on the debut with its more restrained song lengths to have these sections land with the gravity they should garner. 

I’m left bitterly disappointed by Memento Vivere, the whole thing a frustrating, rudderless experience. It’s tepid despite its ambition, bland despite its capacity for emotion, straight up boring despite the pedigree. There are glimmers of what made the debut so brilliant in its understatedness, but Memento Vivere is a letdown. I finally see the real reason Chris deferred this to me—it wasn’t a kindness.

Recommended tracks: It Walks Among Us
You may also like: Meer, Frequency Drift, Playgrounded, Mother of Millions, Marjana Semkina
Final verdict: 5/10

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

Label: Frequency Drift – Bandcamp

Haven of Echoes is:
Paul Sadler: all vocals, guitars
Nerissa Schwarz: electric harp, keys
Wolfgang Ostermann: drums
Andreas Hack: all other instruments

The post Review: Haven of Echoes – Memento Vivere appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: dissonant death metal (harsh vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Gorguts, Ulcerate, Portal
Country: international
Release date: 16 August 2024

Another week, another dissodeath opus, this time from new-kids-on-the-block Evilyn (though they aren’t completely green as they have lots of experience in other Subway-friendly projects like Malignancy, WAIT, Ashen Horde, as well as a handful of other accomplished, Andy-approved bands). Anthony Lipari (Thoren) has assembled the talent necessary for Evilyn to twist and squelch through dense, Gorgutsian death metal—that’s for sure—so does Mondestrunken (named after a legendary Schoenberg piece) live up to the expectations?

Dense and cagey like Schoenberg or Gorguts, Mondestrunken certainly is, but its mysteries hidden until multiple listens through aren’t as well-composed nor brilliant as their forebears. After several spins, I gleaned more structure and hidden riffs within the overwhelming, claustrophobic mix of Coma Cluster Void’s Jeanne Comateuse, but they’re perpetually at a plodding walk, occasionally switching to a crawl or jog, and they punch with little force. Moreover, they aren’t as technically composed or played as others in the crowded scene, and I have little reason to return; I feel let down for similar reasons as I didn’t enjoy the previous Abyssal or Acausal Intrusion releases. Evilyn bleed little variation between tracks or even sections within tracks: we get thirty-six minutes of similar riffs only occasionally disjoined by whacky, chromatic solos. Normally I’m against gimmicks, but Evilyn could desperately use one to stave off their frankly boring riffs.

The worst problem with Mondestrunken (yes, worse than bland riffs) is the misguided attempts at being heavy as balls. Rather than write particularly crushing, meat-tenderizing riffs, they play lethargic and tepid doom metal ones and attempt to make it crushing by cranking the subhuman-register bass up and also downtuning the guitars to embarrassing levels. Paranoid used standard tuning and sure as hell feels heavier than Evilyn sans harsh vocals. Most detail also gets lost in the cavernous bass clacking. Unilaterally across Mondestrunken, the highlights are when the silly bass-tone is turned down and another instrument takes a more obvious lead like the chaotic solo to close out “Dread” or the lead riffs in “Bloviate” which take on a more natural tone, still full-bodied but allowing for much richer details to come through. These sections that the band likely intended to be the breaks from the onslaught of “heavy” sections ironically become the heaviest because the atmosphere doesn’t feel as forced, allowing for the instrumentation and songwriting to shine. Evilyn need not rely on faux heavy from forced, brickwalled, bass-heavy production because I know every member of the trio has played leaden heaters before—bassist of Evilyn Alex Weber had my favorite riff performance of the year with Malignancy, even.

Rarely does a so-called supergroup blow everybody away—expectations are too lofty—but Mondestrunken is a failed attempt at dissodeath. I’m easy to appease with skronky riffs and equivocal writing, but I need it to be a bit headier. If you took away the murky Portal-isms and obnoxious bass, this is simple at its core. I know these musicians have much more in the tank, so I’m left bitterly disappointed for an album I had Convulsing-level hopes going into. Also, what’s the story behind the band name? Is one of them hung up on an ex named Evilyn or something?

Recommended tracks: Bloviate
You may also like: Mære, Coma Cluster Void, Haar, Norse, Malignancy, Convulsing, Abyssal, Acausal Intrusion
Final verdict: 4/10

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

Label: Transcending Obscurity Records – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Evilyn is:
– Alex Weber (bass)
– Robin Stone (drums)
– Anthony Lipari (guitars, vocals)

The post Review: Evilyn – Mondestrunken appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: avant-garde metal, brutal prog, deathgrind (mostly harsh vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Oingo Boingo, Mr. Bungle, Pig Destroyer, Cardiacs, We Butter the Bread With Butter
Country: international
Release date: 19 July 2024

Musical chameleonism is often a trait of being a musical genius (see Ulver, Devin Townsend). Neither artist plays more than a couple releases in the same style in a row before growing restless and switching it up completely because their brains must be overflowing with grandiose creative ideas a single genre limits. Musical eclecticism is a far less desirable trait in my opinion. Bands who constantly switch genres within a single track often do so by forcing styles together with a lack of finesse and without the requisite knowledge, skill, or wherewithal of when, how, or why to merge distinct styles convincingly. Usually, it comes off as an immature gimmick. Throughout their four-year career, Circle of Sighs have done a bit of both, starting with progressive doom metal, switching to abstract hip-hop-and-electronica-infused metal, and now cranking out a brutal prog EP Ursus of avant-garde, genre-switching, grindy metal. 

Ursus follows the lineage of the Hollywood blockbuster, the cinematic masterpiece, the certified fresh (ok, maybe not that last one) Cocaine Bear. The story which the album follows concerns a bear who takes ayahuasca and in its state of ego dissolution “melds consciousnesses with a trans-dimensional being.” Admittedly, this is a riotous concept, hilarious in scope and executed quite spectacularly from the evil Care Bear on the album cover to the little Midatalantic man’s spoken word about grizzlies in the track intros to the cassette version of the EP coming literally embedded inside of a behemoth, orange-flavored gummy bear. It’s stupid humor, but it’s so over-the-top it works, and Circle of Sighs came up with the only logical improvement of Cocaine Bear: Ayahuasca Bear.

The music is similarly immoderate, smashing together deathgrind and brutal prog, but it’s nowhere near as fun as the concept. The metal parts are produced horribly with the drums overpowering and obnoxious to the point of being headache-inducing. Ursus also has a distinct lack of riffs—everything just kinda sounds like a chugging blob with blast beats and snarls without melody or even interesting rhythmicity. And as alluded to in the intro, eclecticism does Circle of Sighs no favors on Ursus with the jazzy and cabaret flourishes amateurish, immature-ish on a songwriting front, and completely detached from the metal. The saxes, banjos, theremins, and flutes are a mixing of musical shades that come out like when you mix a bunch of condiments and you’re left with a vomitous shade of brown: the taking-no-prisoners production just has the distinct genres fight for which style of instrument can make the most noise without any thought about what sounds tolerable or pleasant. I get Circle of Sighs are quirky for quirkiness’s sake (their Bandcamp bio states, “Mime metal. Blackened juggling. Definitely not a cult.”), but I wish their music had the strength of execution of their silly concept. 

The worst moments take place in the latter half of the EP with annoying circus music and extended ambience in “Ursus 5,” the awful lyrics and spoken vocal performance in “Ursus 4” (a snippet of lyrics: “The feast rages into the long night our worlds now and forever linked through the chasm of glowing emerald crystals that sprung from the ground where once there were car dealerships, Ikea, Starbucks and Taco Bell.”), and the annoying nothingness of the cover of“Horsehead” from the OG obnoxious prog Cardiacs. Unfortunately, it’s not just painful to listen to from the production, it’s actively annoying and cringey circus prog. Even at only twenty minutes, I feel like I’m being strapped to a chair and forced to listen to this for an eternity as a prisoner of war. 

I don’t think musical chameleonism is a trait of musical geniusness in this case, sadly, but rather an unfocused and sloppy idea of what Circle of Sighs wants to be as a band. Instead of honing their skills to master a style, they switch from one mediocre attempt at genre to another. The poor eclecticism is just the cherry on top. If Circle of Sighs want to ever write something of substance, they need to stick with one genre for a little bit longer both in each song and from album to album.

Recommended tracks: Ursus 2
You may also like: Maladie, Eunuchs, Lou Kelly, The Beast of Nod
Final verdict: 3/10

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

Label: independent

Circle of Sighs is:
Collyn McCoy – Vocals, Upright Bass, Electric Upright Bass, Bass Guitar, Guitar, Samples, Percussion
Chris Soohoo – Vocals, Mime, Projections, Puppetry
Ryan Thomas Johnson – Vocals, Keyboards, Banjo 
Ian Schweer – Drums 
Geoff Yeaton – Saxophones

The post Review: Circle of Sighs – Ursus appeared first on The Progressive Subway.