Style: Neofolk, dark folk (Clean vocals, mostly instrumental)
Recommended for fans of: Vàli, Ulver (Kveldssanger), Empyrium, Agalloch (The White EP), Nest
Country: West Virginia, United States
Release date: 9 May 2025

The book Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer is a revelation, outlining in no uncertain terms a synthesis of scientific and Native Animist thought into a singular holistic worldview. In her book, she recounts and analyzes Eastern Woodland mythos through stories from several tribes, including the Potawatomi and Haudenosaunee peoples. At their cultural nexus lies gratitude, an ethos that one reciprocates the gifts of nature through stewardship, mutual care, and the creation of art. Neofolk-turned-black-metal project Nechochwen aims to embody this gratitude on latest record spelewithiipi through a series of vignettes dedicated to the river and region of the same name¹. How does Nechochwen express their gratitude for the land that shaped them?

A carefree, pastoral air encompasses spelewithiipi’s compositions, led by guitars and occasionally embellished by flutes, hand drums, and field recordings. Many pieces encompass the dark folk spirit of Ulver’s Kveldssanger through their motif-drenched guitar work while others lean into an americana edge with twangy sliding notes, rambling melodic expositions, and playing inspired by banjo techniques. “Precipice of Stone” even tends to a Tenhi songwriting style with gloomy psychedelic soundscaping and dirging drumwork from Pohonasin; the tonality and open voice of Nechochwen’s cathartic vocalizations in the latter half lends the piece a distinct Eastern Woodland touch.

The central ethos of spelewithiipi is presented on opener “lenawe’owiin”, meaning ‘Native American way of being’². Nechochwen weaves a web of ideas shaped by personal, interpersonal, and cultural knowledge, reflecting on dreams and visions (“lenawe’owiin”, “Precipice of Stone”), locations that inspire thought on past and future (“spelewithiipi”, “mthothwathiipi”, “Great Meadows Vista”), and figures steeped in intrigue (“othaškwa’alowethi behme”, “Nemacolin’s Path”). “tpwiiwe”, or ‘one who brings truth’, is a glyph commonly inscribed on prayer sticks to give thanks to any number of beings and spirits; the track itself is intended as a sort of tpwiiwe whose symbolism is left up to the listener. The experience is particularly striking, inspiring a series of internal struggles and resolutions while reflecting on how gratitude manifests in my life. spelewithiipi’s presentation as a whole inspires an easygoing stream-of-consciousness, sauntering unhurriedly between concepts while staying tethered to its central tenets like stories told around a campfire with friends.

spelewithiipi’s pieces go through similarly relaxed trajectories, morphing internally within sections and starting anew once an idea has reached its end. Many tracks end up surprisingly oblique in their structure despite the simplicity of the compositions, requiring some patience and effort to get a hold of their fuzzy sensibilities. “spelewithiipi”, for example, dreamily captures glimpses of a single location, gently exploring its river banks before moving on to a scene from another time. “tpwiiwe” and “mthothwathiipi” guide the listener in similar form through a subtle and suggestive evolution of balmy picked acoustics. The approach begins to fall apart a bit, however, on closing tracks “Nemacolin’s Path” and “Primordial Passage”. The former embodies the spirit of Chief Nemacolin, renowned for his remarkable skills as a guide and navigator through forest landscapes; the latter internalizes the mix of excitement and wistfulness that comes with leaving your homeland and being the first to explore a new place. Both gently reprise melodies from their opening sections, but the pieces meander a bit too liberally, missing ideas that give a sense of direction.

Thematically, this nonchalant approach is relaxing and soothing, but it bears additional challenges when looking at spelewithiipi’s songwriting narrative. Plenty of variation is offered in length and structure: some tracks are internally complete, and some are more nebulous. Overall, though, there is an underlying sense of heterogeneity that prevents the pieces from coalescing as wholly as the ideas behind them. The drumwork on “lenawe’owiin”, for example, feels like it’s building to something more intense that never comes, giving a sense of incompleteness when the record suddenly moves on to another idea. Additionally, “othaškwa’alowethi behme” is a mysterious and somewhat foreboding interlude with nice soundscaping, but it feels a bit jarring in its placement after “tpwiiwe”, one of spelewithiipi’s more tranquil and delicate moments.

In trying to ford spelewithiipi’s forests, I realize I simply don’t have the same navigational acuity as Nemacolin. Swelling with beauty, metaphor, and gratitude, the record vividly explores a multi-faceted relationship with land, culture, and self, but without the context behind the pieces, the compositions can sometimes struggle to bear the weight of their meaning. Regardless, spelewithiipi offers ample food for thought under its delicate structure and free-flowing approach, inspiring a closer examination of the land that surrounds us and our relationship to it.

Recommended tracks: tpwiiwe, mthothwathiipi, Precipice of Stone
You may also like: Ulvesang, October Falls, Liljevars Brann, Wÿntër Ärvń, Sangre de Muérdago
Final verdict: 6/10

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

Label: Nordvis Produktion – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Nechochwen is:
– Nechochwen (guitars, flute, hand drums, vocals)
– Pohonasin (bass, drums)

1. Spelewithiipi is the Shawnee name for the Ohio River, but specifically the area surrounding Ohio and West Virginia. ︎
2. The language is not specified, but the blurb related to this track on Nechochwen’s Bandcamp calls out the loyalhanna hotewe, implying the word likely comes from that group. ︎

The post Review: Nechochwen – spelewithiipi appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: progressive metal, jazz fusion (instrumental, mostly instrumental)
Recommended for fans of: Jacob Collier, Liquid Tension Experiment, Animals as Leaders, Car Bomb, Meshuggah
Country: Germany
Release date: 25 April 2025

Why cover a song? Be it artistic appreciation, a business decision to gain exposure, or out of obligation to the tradition, the cover track is a mainstay for many artists, yet one often relegated to being an album’s bonus track. Bringing cover tracks to the forefront of an album, however, is risky; that comes with the pressure of living up to several of your musical and creative idols. Panzerballett try it—do they match the originals? 

German jazz fusion/prog metal group Panzerballett cover plenty of legendary songs from progressive metal and classical music alike on Übercode Œuvre, putting their signature twist (a whole lot of rhythmic and melodic absurdity) on classics like Meshuggah’s “Bleed,” Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy,” Planet X’s “Alien Hip Hop,” and Vivaldi’s “Summer.” That is to say, the songs—some of which are already extremely difficult pieces—become unfathomably complicated to the non-music theorizer. I’m sure the guys in Panzerballett would talk about their music in the same way Jacob Collier talks about his, but in a German accent instead of Collier’s whimsical British one—twattishly pretentious while blissfully unaware that theoretical mastery doesn’t translate to being good.

As I see it, there is one main way to critically assess a cover: how does this add to the song’s canon? Panzerballett’s takes on the classics are certainly novel (barring the Planet X one), but they screw up what makes the original songs successful and are, accordingly, entirely terrible. No metal artist needs to cover Vivaldi, it’s been done ad nauseam (sorry, Angel, that includes you, too). One cannot possibly pull off two covers of “Ode to Joy” because they will always be a waste of time; why on God’s green earth would I listen to a prog metal version of one of the most celebrated pieces of music of all time that defeats its elegant simplicity by making it polyphonic, polyrhythmic masturbation? Other choices, such as the “Alien Hip Hop” cover, are even more baffling. Panzerballett take what is undeniably one of the most rhythmically and harmonically complicated progressive metal songs ever and try to make it more challenging to play. At what point does art become an exercise in onanism? That moment is long gone in Panzerballett’s rearview mirror. And I’m afraid the Planet X cover is the clear highlight of Übercode Œuvre because the original song was already good and they don’t change it all that much—a pointless recreation but not bad.

The covers of “Bleed” and “Ode to Joy” (both versions) are among the worst progressive metal tracks I’ve ever heard from capable musicians, a pair of blazing guitar solos from Rafael Trujillo (ex-Obscura, Obsidious) in “Bleed” aside. The Meshuggah cover utilizes annoying horns to create a melody that simply wasn’t in the original song, while the rhythm section plays something in a time signature I couldn’t dream of figuring out—the result sounds as if it were recorded drunkenly despite the instrumental wizardry. Moreover, Panzerballett add atmospheric guitar parts in dissonant chords, ringing out like out of tune bells above the din, heralding the end of good music. Again, I’m sure the harmonic polyphony is genius technically, but it’s more masturabatory than even Jordan Ruddess at his worst.

“What could adding in the motif from William Tell’s ‘Overture’ possibly add to ‘Bleed’?” one might ask. And they’d be justified because it’s eclecticism for eclecticism’s sake. “Ode to Joy (Vocal)” starts promisingly with a warped vision for the track, Andromeda Anarchia’s (Folterkammer, La Suspendida) vocals operatic and eerie, but the track almost instantly devolves into Guantanamo Bay-level torture. While assuredly not actually out of tune and out of time, it sure sounds like it. Between the added phone hold-music jazz, drum solos, and “poorly harmonized,” warbling sopranos, I cannot think of a worse way to sodomize one of the most celebrated pieces of music in history—and that’s before Panzerballett start djenting all over the place.

The original compositions on Übercode Œuvre (yes, it’s not completely a cover album) are ok, fairly run of the mill for this style of fusion prog metal. “Seven Steps to Hell” and “Andromeda” are easily identified strong moments on the album: convoluted and with irritating saxophone and djent parts, but stronger than their surroundings nonetheless. The Ballett are a better ensemble as jazz composers than metal ones (despite the obvious metal pedigree). Their style doesn’t translate to djent and distortion well.
We all like some wank in the prog metal world. I can throw down to freaky microtonality, and I think cover tracks can be fun. But I cannot think of a worse attempt at any of those three things at once than Übercode Œuvre, an offensively terrible listening experience so far up its own ass Jacob Collier might blush.

Recommended tracks: Seven Steps To Hell, Alien Hip Hop, Andromeda
You may also like: La Suspendida, Sarmat, Ckraft, Planet X, Exivious
Final verdict: 2/10

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

Label: independent

Panzerballett is:
Jan Zehrfeld: guitars, vocals
With:
Virgil Donati: drums
Marco Minnemann: drums
Morgan Ågren: drums
Anika Nilles: drums
Florian Fennes: sax
Anton Davidyants: bass
Jen Majura: guitars
Andromeda Anarchia: vocals
Rafael Trujillo: guitars
Sebastian Lanser: drums
Joe Doblhofer: guitar
Chris Clark: vocals
Conny Kreitmeier: vocals
(taken from ProgArchives, I cannot find an official declaration of lineup)

The post Review: Panzerballett – Übercode Œuvre appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Artwork by: Ingrid Kao

Style: Video Game Music, Progressive Rock, Jazz Rock (mostly instrumental, clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Koji Kondo, Danimal Cannon, Powerglove, Mitch Murder, Kavinsky, Timecop 1983
Country: New Jersey, United States
Release date: 7 April 2025

In James Cameron’s 1994 blockbuster True Lies, Arnold Schwarzenegger plays mild-mannered computer salesman Harry Tasker who, unbeknownst to his wife Helen (Jamie Lee Curtis) and teenage daughter Dana (Eliza Dushku), is actually a highly-trained spy for the US government. While the movie plays its deceptions for largely comedic value, I always thought discovering such a secret about a loved one would be anything but funny. Well, in 2025 thought became reality for me.

That’s right. My father, who for the past three decades I believed to be a similarly mild-mannered branch manager, has been lying to my family. Imagine my shock—nay, my horror as I was innocently perusing the tunnels of The Progressive Subway in search of review-worthy material and discovered CRT Dreams by none other than… Chuck Salamone. I confronted him that very evening, demanding to know how he could have lied to us for so long.

The audacity.

All jokes aside, the artist behind CRT Dreams bears no actual familial relations to our particular clan. Besides, I’ve never written my dad’s name in bold, and don’t plan to start. Chuck Salamone (Amigos, Amigos!), the man, hails from New Jersey; a multi-instrumentalist and co-owner of His & Hers Music, where he teaches private music education alongside his wife, Diane Aragona. As Chuck Salamone, the artist, he has produced two LPs. In Plain Sight, released in 2024, was a prog rock-focused platter of original tunes featuring nearly 20 different musicians combining elements of jazz, hip-hop, and flecks of metal. Imagine “royalty-free prog-rock,” and you’re close to understanding the listening experience. Competent musicians, toothless production, saccharine vocals. Honestly, some of it would have fit perfectly on a mid-00s Sonic the Hedgehog game.

Fitting, then, that for this year’s CRT Dreams, Salamone has turned his sights toward video game compositions—specifically, with the goal of creating new interpretations and arrangements. From classics like HyperZone, Sonic 2, Final Fantasy VII, and Yoshi’s Island, to more current entries like Final Fantasy XV and Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, there’s a healthy reach to the selections. And I can’t lie, making a funk medley out of a bunch of Sonic 2 tracks (“Off the Hilltop”)—with a Hammond organ, too—is kinda sick.

However, there’s a central problem that undoes almost every composition on CRT Dreams, whether that’s the latin jazz intermezzo smashup of “Yo, Fungo Kass,” “Fifteenth Sunset’s” classical introspection, or the Koji Kondo worship of lofi-jazzhop medley “Koji Gets Lost for Awhile.” Part of what makes video game music click is its context; how it connects to and informs the player of the characters, story, world, etc. It’s not to say video game compositions can’t stand on their own (I own several of Michiru Yamane’s Castlevania soundtracks, not to mention Doom 2016’s), but more often than not most video game OSTs feel diminished when separated from their host medium. Couple that with a similarly tepid production job as In Plain Sight (individual instruments come through clear but there’s no real dynamics), and CRT Dreams quickly begins to fade into the background like so much disposable muzak. It’s clearly designed to be a celebration of video game music, but this lack of aural force leaves the album with an impact akin to listening to retail radio.

There’s also a novelty factor to consider, too. While listening, I was reminded of similar video game or soundtrack-focused acts like Danimal Cannon and Powerglove, or even “joke” bands like Austrian Death Machine or Dethklok. They’re fun for a time, but eventually the novelty runs out and I’m veering back towards more “serious”¹ music. And even if video game music is your jam, the languid tempos and soft production make it easy to suggest sticking to the originals.

I hate to pen such a harsh review of Chuck Salamone’s latest work, because he’s my dad well-intentioned and promotes the positivity of music. Wafer-thin production aside, I think the compositions are (mostly) fun across the board: just listen to the electronic bop of “HyperGround.” Or “Off the Hilltop’s” smooth vibes and sultry saxophone. The truest misstep is closer “Pollyambria”—a mashup of “Pollyanna” and Coheed & Cambria that’s so saccharine-sweet as to be artificial, with thin vocals and milquetoast prog riffage.

Video game music absolutely deserves to be celebrated, and I’ll always applaud those spreading the love. But, the worst thing music can do to me is feel disposable, and sadly that’s the overriding sensation I’ve had while listening to CRT Dreams. Maybe if the production was more lively, less tucked into the recesses, then perhaps I’d be keen on some New Game Plus runs. But considering how quickly it all fades from memory even while listening, I just don’t think this is a game I’m going to spend more quarters on.

Recommended tracks: Off the Hilltop, HyperGround
You may also like: Ian Cowell, Ro Panuganti / Game Raga, RRGEMS15, Feras Arrabi, Lost in Lavender Town
Final verdict: 4.5/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Instagram | RateYourMusic

Label: Independent

Chuck Salamone is:
– Chuck Salamone (all instruments/arrangements, vocals)

1. I like Battle Beast and Sabaton, okay? It’s not that serious. ︎

The post Review: Chuck Salamone – CRT Dreams appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | Instagram

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

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

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

The post Review: Neptunian Maximalism – Le Sacre du Soleil Invaincu (LSDSI) appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: progressive metal, jazz fusion, avant-garde jazz, free jazz, technical death metal (mostly instrumental)
Recommended for fans of: John Coltrane (late era), Weather Report, Imperial Triumphant, John Zorn
Country: New York, United States
Release date: 21 February 2025

Although born out of Western “art music” (i.e. classical and jazz), prog has long shunned a critical aspect of jazz: improvisation. Our favorite bands in the prog and metal scenes are anal with their precise compositions, unwilling to leave a single detail out of their control in an obsessive chasing of perfection. That’s what made the Big Apple’s Sarmat so refreshing when they hit the scene in 2023—although playing something texturally prog metal, the extended live jam session which made up their debut EP Dubious Disk was fully jazz in its improvisational spirit. After a more concentrated, composed tech death release later that year, Sarmat are now back with Upgrade, their second live-in-studio album of improvised fusion metal.

At two tracks and twenty-one minutes, Upgrade is a pocket-sized but powerful statement reaffirming that jazz composition with metal instrumentation can work and should be attempted by more bands. Of course, not all groups have the collective talents of members like Steve Blanco (bass, Imperial Triumphant), Ryan Hale (guitar), and James Jones (drums). That power trio alone present a heroic display on their instruments, contorting modal jazz into a distorted hellscape. Sarmat have other talented collaborators, though, like trumpeters Jerome Burns and Oskar Stenmark, as well as my personal favorite performer on Upgrade, Niko Hasapopoulos on upright bass. The members of this demented jazz collective are clearly all experienced jammers, their playing tight and in sync despite the fluid “compositional” style.

The shorter of the two tracks, “Serum Visions,” is superior to the preceding title track. On “Serum Visions,” Blanco drops his meaty bass for sci-fi synths, allowing for the elegance of the upright bass to clash with the wailing trumpets and power chords, and the synth-laden atmosphere creates a perfect backdrop for Sarmat to spawn their music ex nihilo. “Upgrade” is inferior precisely because of this: it’s less free, more composed. With a long section built around a variation of “Landform” from Determined to Strike (their full-length album), “Upgrade” takes the banger tech death riff and attempts jam variations of it in an unbecoming way. Moreover, Ilya Beklo’s gutturals enter during the last third of the song, making the ending seem completely disjointed from the first two thirds of the track—the vocals sick for a death metal release but more distracting than anything on a proggy release such as this. Their inclusion is frustrating, taking away from the sharp jazz focus and turning to a more Zorn-esque, pretentious eclecticism. The more composed sections suffer next to the organically improvised moments. 

However, what separates Sarmat from the jazz greats of olde is the band’s lack of energy: yes, this group is noisy, benefiting from distortion, but only Jones’ drumming satisfies my craving for the transcendent experience of live free jazz. Upgrade desperately needs more along the lines of his frenetic, chaotic performance. At times, the rest match his intensity—especially Ilya Belko’s haunting screams put through inhuman distortion effects, from there stealthily breaking loose into a dramatic trumpet solo, at 3:40 into “Serum Visions”—but overall, despite the noise, nobody in the group really commands focus. In that sense, Upgrade could benefit from its performers alternating in a roundhouse fashion trading off solos like on Coltrane’s Ascension. Upgrade is too egalitarian with the focus, leading to fewer highlights and not showcasing the performers’ individual excellence. 

Sarmat’s vision is valiant, and Colin Marston’s as-always excellent in-studio production provides the sound with crisp clarity, but the jam doesn’t excite me nearly as much as Dubious Disk did a couple years ago. While the EP isn’t so much an upgrade of Sarmat’s sound, the mission is clear: jazz and metal will collide in improvetory fashion, and Sarmat will lead the charge.

Recommended tracks: Serum Visions
You may also like: Behold the Arctopus, A.M.E.N., Dischordia, Tatsuya Yoshida & Risa Takeda, Electric Masada
Final verdict: 6/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | Instagram

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

James Jones – Drums: Tracks 1 and 2
Steve Blanco – Bass Guitar: Track 1, Keytar: Track 2
Zachary Blakeslee-Reid – Guitar: Track 1
Ryan Hale – Guitar: Track 2
Niko Hasapopoulos – Arm, Upright Bass: Track  2
Oskar Stenmark – Trumpet: Track 1
Jerome Burns – Trumpet: Track 2
Ilya Belko – Vocals : Track 1

The post Review: Sarmat – Upgrade appeared first on The Progressive Subway.