Style: symphonic deathcore (harsh vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Lorna Shore, Synestia, Disembodied Tyrant, Fleshgod Apocalypse
Country: Connecticut, United States
Release date: 27 June 2025

At metal concerts, I’m much more of a “stand in the back next to the sound guy and headbang” guy than a mosher. Call me lame and not a real metalhead¹, but risking bodily injury AND getting a worse quality of sound just isn’t worth it to me; it takes something special to get me in the circle. Shadow of Intent in concert earlier this year kicked so much ass I ran around in the silly circles, even participating in my first wall of death—of course, part of the reason I moshed was because my Subway nemesis Dylan was present at the show, and I couldn’t pass up a free chance to shove him. I’ve been a fan of the (previously) Halo-themed symphonic, sometimes technical, deathcore band since I was just getting into metal (and will still argue that Reclaimer is a top five deathcore album of all time), but I’d cooled on the Connecticut group’s output since 2019’s album Melancholia—not for lack of quality, just a natural evolution of taste. Will Shadow of Intent’s new album, Imperium Delirium, capitalize on nostalgia and the momentum from their concert experience?

Imperium Delirium sure sounds like Shadow of Intent, the band continuing their at-this-point formulaic approach: bombastic fake orchestration, searing guitar solos, inhuman vocals, and, of course, breakdowns galore. And now on their fifth album, Shadow of Intent’s formula is tried, true, and predictable. The opener “Prepare to Die” shows off the full spectrum of the band’s sound with an over-dramatic symphonic intro leading into Ben Duerr’s shotgun gutturals, while drummer Bryce Butler goes ham. After a brief reprieve from the overwhelming wall-of-sound’s epicness, Chris Wiseman sets fire across his frets. The song develops a little more underneath a blazing riff until its ending breakdown. No matter how shreddy and cheesily orchestrated Shadow of Intent get, they never want you to forget that they’re in the neck-snapping business—and damn good at it. Unfortunately, every track (except instrumental “Apocalypse Canvas” which made me audibly exclaim “they have a bassist?!”) unfolds similarly, if not with “slightly varied” song structures—that is, where will the breakdown, chorus, and solo be this time?

As always on a Shadow of Intent album, the synthesized orchestration makes Imperium Delirium engaging and fun, as do the guitar solos and choruses with their cleanly screamed crowd chants. The orchestration gets significantly drowned in the mix because so many layers of instrumentation and metal are happening at once, yet their background presence is enough to make Imperium Delirium feel cinematic, albeit a bit played out at this point. Often, the album’s highlight moments are backed by orchestration, such as on “The Facets of Propaganda.” While incredibly cliche with its stereotypically Middle Eastern melody and instrumentation, the track is wild, playing with centering the orchestration. However, directly clashing with the warm cinematics of the synthesized orchestra is a horribly misplaced electronic keyboard sound that reappears over and over throughout the album, curdling the orchestration like a lemon in milk. For instance, “Flying the Black Flag” uses the keys in its initial breakdown, and in “They Murdered Sleep” they crop up throughout as a cheap sounding nuisance. Conversely, the real piano that Shadow of Intent are prone to use in the rare chill moments is awesome—the band should have stuck with that.

Unlike your average metal elitist², I love a good breakdown, especially seeing how pivotal they are to a deathcore band like Shadow of Intent in a live setting. Ben Duerr is a stellar vocalist with unreal gutturals and vowel enunciation, and he switches between several styles during each breakdown, from Archspire-esque quick-flow vocals to vicious screams and deep barks. Every breakdown in Imperium Delirium seems identical, though, undifferentiated from any other competent deathcore band. atop janky, unpredictable rhythms, and brown-note chugs. If you’ve ever heard a deathcore breakdown, all of the dozen or more on this record will be redundant despite Duerr’s outstanding vocal capabilities and Shadow of Intent’s symphonic schtick. 

Five albums in, and it seems like Shadow of Intent are done evolving. While their formula is undeniably solid, the creative spark of the first two albums ran out of fuel. Imperium Delirium is an entertaining symphonic deathcore album when that’s all the rage with the -core kids right now (looking at you, Lorna Shore), and the record is solid fun. And although it lacks the stunning and fresh ideas of Shadow of Intent’s older records, at least I know the songs on Imperium Delirium will be fun live!

Recommended tracks: The Facets of Propaganda, Apocalypse Canvas, Imperium Delirium
You may also like: Mental Cruelty, A Wake in Providence, Ovid’s Withering
Final verdict: 5/10

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

Label: independent

Shadow of Intent is:
– Ben Duerr (vocals)
– Chris Wiseman – Guitar/Keyboards/Vocals
– Bryce Butler – Drums
– Andrew Monias – Bass/Vocals
With guests:
– Corpsegrinder (vocals, track 7)

1. As the vocalist of Decrepit Birth did to the non-moshers at their concert recently, which is no way to treat paying concert-goers, especially when you play in a low B-tier tech death band who can’t produce an album well. ︎
2. Let it be known I am an elitist, just far above the plebeian average elitist. ︎

The post Review: Shadow of Intent – Imperium Delirium appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Artwork by: George Nickels

Style: Deathcore, Blackened Deathcore (Mixed vocals, mostly harsh)
Recommended for fans of: Lorna Shore, Shadow of Intent, Whitechapel, Distant, Angelmaker
Country: North Carolina, United States
Release date: 9 May 2025

A surefire way to catch my attention is with an overwrought song title. Though bands like Alexisonfire have graced me with such gems as “Water Wings (& Other Poolside Fashion Faux Pas)” and “It Was Fear Of Myself That Made Me Odd,” it is often within the dim and slimeridden kingdoms of metal’s extremes where the shiniest treasures await. Offerings like “A Kingdom Built Upon the Wreckage of Heaven” (Outergods); or, to pluck a more “mainstream” example, Nile’s 2024 head-turner, “Chapter For Not Being Hung Upside Down on a Stake in the Underworld and Made to Eat Feces by the Four Apes.” Yes, really. Before I run up any more of this word count limit, let me get to the stake, er, point.

This peculiar affliction of mine found me ensnared by North Carolina deathcore outfit Sold Soul and their 2022 sophomore LP, I Hope We Make It Out of This Alive; specifically, their song “Something’s Breathing in the Hallway, I Live Alone.” The spine-tingling track title, coupled with the Edward Gorey-esque album art, beset my mind with scenes of a bristling nightmare desecrating the idea of home as a safe haven. To my delight, the music begot doom-ridden and Gothic intentions. Crushing riffwork and howling leads backboned by foundation-rattling drums and foreboding atmosphere, with mainman Stevie O’Shaughnessy’s tortured roars and baroque cleans digging into this twisted firmament like a last grasp at sanity. Bespoke violin creeping across the tracklist like an icy shiver down the spine. Their style of deathcore is more deliberate than contemporaries like Lorna Shore, Shadow of Intent, To The Grave, etc.; more stalking nightmare than relentless assault.

Now, having in fact made it out alive after a three-year silence, Sold Soul return with third full-length, Just Like That, I Disappear Entirely. With cover art evoking Where’s Waldo shot through the prism of Hell, I have one question: Will Sold Soul’s return stand out, or is it destined to fade into the crowd, faceless and forgotten?

Sold Soul waste no time re-establishing their haunted-house vibes on “As Whisper, or As a Bellow,” with a menacing guitar line stretched across thundering double-bass kicks and O’Shaughnessy’s razored growls. There’s familiarity in the way the track moves from staggered lurching to headlong chase, the creeping tension melting away in the face of a full-on death metal assault before returning to a mid-paced hunt, complete with animalistic snarling and inhuman shrieks. O’Shaughnessy breaks out the cleans towards the end, pitched low and steeped in Draculian grandeur. As the album’s second-longest cut, “As Whisper, or As a Bellow” sets the tone well for what’s to come.

“For I Can Endure No Longer” sees a greater balance of clean and harsh vocals, crafting an operatic melancholia which pairs nicely against the bladed surge of the guitars. Follow-up “To Spit Contempt on the Tail of Every Uttered Word” veers into cartoonish deathcore waters with an extended run of barking, but manages to right the sails with a grooving bass section, jazzy drumming, and ethereal vocals by guest Kukielle. There’s a surprisingly Ithaca-adjacent taste to “Howl,” with its white-noise riffage and lock-step drum rolls, bringing measures of metallic hardcore to Sold Soul’s benighted feast table. I can almost hear Djamila Azzouz’s flensing shrieks toasting the event. The band even whip up a sadboi ballad in “Although I May Love You, I Must Leave You Here Alone,” a vibes-heavy cut which foregoes all heft and lets O’Shaughnessy flex his melodious pipes in all their melodramatic glory.

Deathcore is a genre of absolute extremes: big, bombastic, and excessive, with vocalists performing what amounts to the demonic version of pop singer vocal acrobatics—regardless of necessity. Sold Soul, refreshingly, understand that “excess” does not always equal “success.” O’Shaughnessy drives his roars down the middle lane, with only a few snarls and screeches peppered in for taste. His aforementioned cleans are perhaps the most dramatic weapon in his arsenal, and in another context they could be considered over-much; he has a tendency to lean into Gothic drama with his delivery, dipping low and soaring strong. However, by layering them against similarly rich and melodramatic music, the band manage to create a harmonious pairing where each element supports the other.

Sold Soul also refrain from the genre’s often cookie-cutter template, where every song becomes an exercise in executing a mammoth breakdown. They have their own formulas to watch out for (opening multiple tracks with creeping guitar lines along a mid-tempo plod), but by and large Sold Soul’s approach to deathcore feels delightfully reserved and atmospheric by comparison, more interested in crafting actual songs structured around varying (dour) moods, as opposed to simple vehicles for brutality and vocal gymnastics.

Yet, for all the enjoyment I’ve had with Just Like That, I Disappear Entirely, it is not without fault. “That Stranger in the Red Suit, and the Many Things He Promised Me,” derails the album’s doom-drenched vibes with a goofy “band members talking and joking” moment in its closing seconds. Penultimate track “I’ve Forever Yearned for an Angel of Mercy and Warmth to Sing Out My Name and Rend Me from My Earthly Sorrows; Yet Throughout All the Years of Idle Longing, I’ve Only Ever Heard a Profound and Crushing Silence” attempts to patch up the holes in the ozone by reinforcing the morose tones and predatory aggression of which the album had drawn its strengths, but never quite recovers from this point forward. Closer “When You Finally Realize How Small You Really Are” amounts to little more than nine minutes of atmosphere. It’s pensive, sure, flaunting some The Thing-esque “bum-bums,” but fails to do anything interesting with its runtime. The last three tracks are bonus cuts and feel disappointingly tacked-on, especially originals “Child of Night” and (second) interlude “I Am So Unbelievably Unhappy,” which may have served better had they been folded elsewhere within the album’s tracklisting. As is, this decision leaves the tail end of the album’s sixty minutes struggling to reclaim its mojo.

If prior entries in the Sold Soul pantheon enticed you, then Just Like That, I Disappear Entirely will undoubtedly keep you in the fold. The band have hardly strayed from their formula here, yet there’s enough iteration to keep things from sounding like a rehash of I Hope We Make It Out of This Alive (beyond the distinct lack of featured contributors).¹ If deathcore’s excesses have turned you away in the past, there’s a possibility Sold Soul’s more deliberate and mood-focused approach may create an exception, possibly even an inroad. Though I can’t answer my earlier question—will Just Like That, I Disappear Entirely fade or stay in memory?—I can say that I’ve largely enjoyed my time with the record. And since the future is never a guarantee, it makes moments like this feel like a win.

Recommended tracks: To Spit Contempt on the Tail of Every Uttered Word, A Lament for an Abandoned Heaven and All Us Who Lay Beneath, Howl, Child of Night
You may also like: Paganizer, Into The Silo, Cognitive, Face Yourself, Zeolite, Euclid
Final verdict: 7/10

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

Label: Crestfallen Records – Facebook | Official Website

Sold Soul is:
– Stevie O’Shaughnessy (vocals, songwriting)
– Abiayup (songwriting, mixing)
With guests:
– Kukielle (additional vocals)
– Josh Null (additional drum compositions)

1. I Hope We Make It Out of This Alive is stacked with features: Stu Block (Into Eternity, Iced Earth), Brittany Slayes (Unleash the Archers), Chris Wiseman (Currents, Shadow of Intent), Matt Perrin (Angelmaker) ︎

The post Review: Sold Soul – Just Like That, I Disappear Entirely appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Label: Theogonia Records – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

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

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

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

Style: technical death metal, brutal death metal, deathcore (harsh vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Origin, Archspire, Benighted, Analepsy, Rings of Saturn
Country: Germany
Release date: 11 April 2025

For a week when I was younger, I thought Brain Drill’s Apocalyptic Feasting was the sickest thing ever; how on earth could anything be that technical? I quickly realized it’s the absolute worst form of tech death, the lads sacrificing any semblance of songwriting in favor of chaotic scale exercises. Cytotoxin are Germany’s answer to Brain Drill, but despite their unhinged technicality and brutality, the quintet don’t forget what songwriting is for the most part. Just like their four previous albums, Biographyte riffs, solos, and breakdowns through some of the most intense forty-seven minutes of metal you’ll hear all year.  

Opening in similar fashion to Viraemia’s legendary 2009 EP (that is, with an absolutely STUPID string run up and down a scale), Biographyte wastes no time to show what Cytotoxin are all about: being a radioactive force of destruction like an atomic bomb. Soon after the wickedly technical opening, a skittery, rhythmic riff propels the song forward, creating a serious risk of dislocating your neck at Mach-1. Guitarists Fonzo and Jason utilize the same recognizable style they’ve had since 2010 of mixing the grooviness of Soreption, the pulverizing brutality of Analepsy, and the technicality of Archspire. Their style is, in a word, br00tal. However, the riffs on Biographyte are leagues ahead of the leads. Each time Fonzo and Jason decide to really let loose their wank, it comes across about as mature as Brain Drill or Rings of Saturn, particularly because the guitar tones when they do it are frail and treble heavy in isolation. When Cytotoxin stick to the arpeggiated, staccato attack of tracks like “Biographyte” and “Transition of the Staring Dead,” the band are firing at their absolute best.

The immaturity of the noodly parts is in stark contrast to the lyrical themes which describe in a series of vignettes what happened to the abandoned city of Pripiyat after the Chernobyl disaster—a weighty topic the music isn’t quite serious enough to do justice. But ignoring lyrical content (as I so often do), Cytotoxin lean so far into excess it’s impossible not to be impressed. Some of the solos, while not always composed amazingly, are actually so insanely technical it’s hard not to be stunned (see “Transition of the Staring Dead” and “Eventless Horizon”). Moreover, the breakdowns throughout Biographyte are also so goddamn heavy I’d certainly be afraid for my life in a Cytotoxin moshpit. The band saves the heaviest, and surprisingly most melodic, track for last, “From Bitter Rivers,” and it’s a damn good closer, synthesizing every successful aspect of Biographyte into one six minute banger. 

Cytotoxin are fun and br00tal, but that’s all there is to them, and at forty-seven minutes, the schtick is played out—notice that the absolute masters of the unreally technical style, Archspire, never exceed thirty-five minutes on an album. That phenomenon is for a reason, and by the end of Biographyte, I’m needing some variety—the two interlude tracks are a breather but more annoying than anything. Despite the quality never noticeably waning—besides when the tracks lean too far into the obnoxiously technical leads like on chunks of “Bulloverdozed” and “The Everslave.” If Biographyte didn’t end with its strongest track, this length issue would be an even bigger problem, though.

I’ve been listening to Cytotoxin for a long time, and my reactions to each subsequent release sadly show how my music taste has matured; no longer do I think absurd technicality or heaviness are the pinnacle of music. But for a style I’ve largely moved away from, Cytotoxin are certainly one of the premier acts, and it brings me great satisfaction to say that Biographyte is still a good album despite its obvious flaws. And when I’m old and wizened, done with all the pretentious nonsense that tickles my fancy right now, I know I’ll be listening to Biographyte enjoying the simple pleasures of a good riff, solo, and breakdown.

Recommended tracks: Biographyte, Behind Armored Doors, Transition of the Staring Dead, From Bitter Rivers
You may also like: Brain Drill, Viraemia, Retromorphosis, Soreption, Spawn of Possession, NYN
Final verdict: 6/10

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

Label: independent

Cytotoxin is:
– V. T. (bass)
– Fonzo (guitars)
– Grimo (vocals)
– Jason (guitars)
– Maximilian Panzer (drums)

The post Review: Cytotoxin – Biographyte appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Post-black metal, deathcore, progressive metal (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Alcest, Astronoid, Cattle Decapitation
Country: Australia
Release date: 04 April 2025

I sometimes wonder what life would be like if I were born in the pre-Internet age. Well, technically I was, but my teenage years coincided with the proliferation of broadband connections into practically every home in the developed world, including mine. Combined with my burgeoning love of metal music, high-speed Internet opened up doors of musical exploration which a non-online version of myself couldn’t have accessed. I remember when (the now entirely defunct) MP3.com was a legal music sharing and discovery site, the day Napster came online, and the first YouTube video—all before I turned twenty. These tools, combined with browsing forums and record label websites, exposed me to various metal subgenres. Today, I use the likes of Bandcamp and Spotify, but the spirit of exploration remains.

Which brings me to Illyria—a band recommended to me by a forum user (shoutout to Keyser) several years ago that has found a consistent place in my rotation ever since. Would offline me ever have discovered a small, progressive post-black metal act from Australia? Probably not. The Subway itself has yet to find space to cover them, and obscure prog acts are our bread and butter.

Considering that fact, a brief overview of their discography is in order: though rooted in a post-black metal sound that they carved out on their 2016 self-titled debut, each subsequent Illyria release finds new ways to break from that mold. The Carpathian Summit (2019) reaches into progressive rock and metal territory, weaving in intricate compositions and varying styles to complement the emotive black metal core. By contrast, Take Me Somewhere Beautiful (2022) dials back the post-black intensity, making space for raw punk energy and screamo-anthem catharsis. Then there is last year’s Wanderlust, a relentless yet melodic storm where searing extreme metal collides with shoegazey introspection. Illyria are always stretching, but never remove their footing entirely from their post-black base.

With The Walk of Atonement, their latest release and first EP, Illyria doesn’t stray too far from its predecessor sonically. And why should they? For my money, Wanderlust is their crowning achievement, and we’re not even a year removed from its release. This extended player feels like, well, an extension of Wanderlust—retaining the heavy death metal bits, a dose of stank-face groove, and the lost-in-thought soft moments, albeit enlarged to a single twenty-three-minute composition. Yet, it is also different. An unsettling eeriness permeates the soundscape throughout. Atonement is taking us back to the Dark Ages, and not just the pre-Internet kind: we’re going medieval, man.

Frontman Ilija Stajić says that this release “is an homage to an experience I had in a fictional world that I was totally immersed in. It is evident throughout our discography that I enjoy writing about video games that I play. The Crusader Kings and Mount & Blade series with its truly amazing modding community had me entranced when composing this EP.” The lyrics, title, and album art certainly evoke the time period and geographic setting of those games: public trial, judgement and punishment, revenge and personal justice—all wrapped in religious undertones.

Like the strict and unforgiving traditions of medieval societies, prog fans have fairly exacting and sometimes contradictory standards. We like recurring themes, but not repetition; the vice of adhering to genre hallmarks tempered by the virtue of musical originality; variety and variance, but also cohesion and congruence. The Walk of Atonement understands this delicate balancing act, and through a plethora of melodic and stylistic choices largely avoids wavering on the high wire. A walking, trudging melodic motif appears throughout the EP in different contexts that ties its handful of sections and moments, and thus the release as a whole, together. The vocals utilize an array of styles—black metal rasps, death metal gutturals, that weird cool scrungy thing that Cattle Decapitation’s Travis Ryan does, as well as cleans that range from melodious whispers to bombastic refrains. Similarly diverse, the guitars would find a home in the aforementioned extreme metal genres in various moments, while the drums fill in with some blast beat bliss and double bass intensity where appropriate. In the background, moody strings, synths, and intricate piano accompaniment provide a hefty amount of color and atmosphere to the aural landscape. Atonement is mostly a metal EP, for sure, but it efficiently and effectively caters to my prog fancies (re: variety) in its tight timeframe.

At the outset of this piece, the lyrics ask the gathered mass to cast stones in judgment. I’m happy to oblige in this regard, but looking at the scattered options on the ground, I’m not really finding any rocks big enough to cause any serious damage. There are a few pointy pebbles, though. I lift one and heave it. The transition into the bridge is way too abrupt and stilted. Another. And that bridge itself lingers too long on a slow and repetitive melody. One last tiny, but smooth stone for good measure. I don’t know how effective the angsty vocal timbre in the intro is. I’ll let other hecklers in the crowd try to bloody up our martyr, as these criticisms are all that I have in me.

Predicting Illyria’s next move has never been easy—each release reshapes expectations set by its predecessor. So, even though a lot of the Wanderlust influences are here, The Walk of Atonement is a neat little aside in their work that could be only that—or it could be a show of strength for lengthier, proggier things to come. I’ll be listening either way.

Recommended tracks: It’s one composition, so listen to the whole thing!
You may also like: Serein, Subterranean Lava Dragon, Together to the Stars
Final verdict: 7.5/10

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

Label: Self release

Illyria is:
– Ilija Stajić (vocals, guitar)
– Andre Avila (rhythm guitar)
– Harry Prosser (lead guitar)
– Jeffrey Anderson (bass)
– Cam Stone-Griffin (percussion)

The post Review: Illyria – The Walk of Atonement appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Art by Mark Richards of Heavy Hand Illustrations

Style: Progressive Death Metal, Technical Death Metal, Deathcore (mixed vocals, but mostly harsh)
Recommended for fans of: Alluvial, Slugdge, Job for a Cowboy
Country: United States – Massachusetts
Release date: 07 February 2025

As with many of my compatriots here at The Progressive Subway, before I ever wrote reviews or managed aspects of the blog, I was a reader and digester of the original monthly “Reports from the Underground.” One of my favorite finds from that time was Pathogenic’s 2019 eponymous LP. A force of prog death at its best, Pathogenic was verifiably insane, with wall to wall riffs and every manner of harsh vocals you could imagine juxtaposed with sections of soaring leads and melodic composition. After a hiatus, Pathogenic have returned with a slightly tweaked lineup (everyone has returned except the drummer) with Crowned in Corpses. Does this new era compare with what was before, or have Pathogenic been discrowned?

From the opening moment of Crowned, a definite shift in sound can already be felt. Pathogenic’s guitars always had somewhat of a snarl in their tone, even more than is the usual for most low string bands, but Crowned turns that up several notches while simultaneously tightening the sound in a tech-y manner. “Mass Grave Memory” establishes its rhythmic conceit in the very beginning, returning to it multiple times throughout with varying drum flavors and treatments behind it. A minute into its runtime comes the first real hit of Pathogenic’s melodic side, albeit buried behind the harsh vocals and churning guitars so as to be something of a seasoning than anything else. “The New Rot” proceeds similarly, continuing the tech inspired sound but giving the first real taste of their lead lines, layered and large.

The changes in sound from Pathogenic became more apparent as Crowned progressed. Some of the compositional swagger and crazy branches I had liked in Pathogenic are gone, replaced with the tech death tightness and repeating themes mentioned earlier. This isn’t to say the new focus isn’t enjoyable, but it just feels like ground often tread in the genre, losing the sense of uniqueness it had before. Some glimpses of the past have remained, though: the end of “The New Rot” seems to begin a swing towards this sound, with the acoustic section building into another large lead section. Sure enough, when “Dead but Not at Rest” comes in, I feel like I’ve really been dropped into more like what I would have expected as the successor to Pathogenic, with a more prog death esque riff structure and the return of some of Jake Burns’ more eccentric harsh vocal choices.

“Exiled from the Abyss” continues the descent into the -core and prog death aspect of their sound, building from juxtaposed chugs and high note hits into full deathcore territory filth at the end. “Fragments” is by far the closest song to the Pathogenic of old, focusing more on atmospheric builds and the return of the clean vocals, even featuring an extended electronic and synth focused outro. However, “Crowned in Corpses” slams back in right after to return us to the tech, monotone type feel. It’s a bit of whiplash in the album’s pacing, to be given a flavor of a “new” sound, divert our attention into a sampling of a natural progression from before, and then drop again into a streamlined tech oriented sound without warning. Don’t misunderstand me, there’s no change in tonalities or presentation per se, it’s just that the compositional nature of the album seems to take a tangent to different areas and back without much warning. The final bit of whiplash comes from the last song, “Silicone Regime”, which features an actual slight guitar tone change and makes you feel almost as if you’ve been dropped into a Wes Hauch production, or something that would slot neatly into one of his albums with Alluvial.

With all honesty, I found myself most enjoying those moments and songs that felt more like a progression from 2019-era Pathogenic than the songs that felt like a neutering of what made them so interesting in the first place. This album does rip, there’s no question about it: Crowned in Corpses is full of great riffs and all the technical talent you’d expect from any band bearing a banner of “technical” that isn’t completely delusional. This album is punishing and crushing with heaviness and grit from end to end. The disappointment for me came from the change in composition, the loss of the tone shift sucker punches, the loss of the Between the Buried and Me quality of ‘anything goes’, the stripping away of the melodic clean sections, and the streamlining of the sound to something that undoubtedly works, but has also undoubtedly been tread before. If you’d like a crushing prog-death album with technical prowess, no doubt this is it. But if I’m looking for the energy and excitement of Pathogenic, I’ll still be listening to the 2019 version.

Recommended tracks: Exiled from the Abyss, Fragments, Crowned in Corpses
You may also like: Replacire
Final verdict: 6/10

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

Label: Skepsis Recordings – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

band in question is:
– Jake Burns (vocals)
– Chris Gardino (guitars)
– Justin Licht (guitars)
– Dan Leahy (bass)
– Tyler Montaquila (drums)

The post Review: Pathogenic – Crowned in Corpses appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: deathcore, mathcore (mostly harsh vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Frontierer, The Tony Danza Tapdance Extravaganza, The Dillinger Escape Plan
Country: Pennsylvania, United States
Release date: 10 January 2025

Of the many strange effects the Internet has had on global music culture, one of the most paradoxical has to be the simultaneous acceleration and stagnation of distinct music scenes. Nowadays, bands pray not for record or tour deals but for TikTok virality. As such, trends live and die by the algorithm, and what sees success one week lives in the gutters the next. At the same time though, nostalgia has never been more prevalent. Anemoia, nostalgia for a time in which you never lived, thrives in the Internet age, and its effects can be seen in the success of bands like Greta Van Fleet and The Sword. Like a snake eating its tail, when these two phenomena combine the results eventually loop back in on themselves. 

And it seems like the revival of aughts-era deathcore is finally here in the form of Gnostician’s debut Unification As An Art. Instrumentally, Gnostician plays a style of acerbic mathy hardcore that reminds me most of the hyper-aggressive Frontierer although they eschew the more hardcore-leaning vox for a vocal approach that sounds straight from Myspace-era deathcore. Regarding its general aesthetic and with features from members of The Last Ten Seconds of Life and Arsonists Get All The Girls, Unification as an Art feels equally as much a love letter to the math- and deathcore scene of years past as it does an attempt to revive it in the modern age.

Like a lot of deathcore, Gnostician’s general ethos on Unification As An Art seems to favor a track’s vocals above all else. For their short run times, these tracks stuff in a hefty amount of lyrics surely deep enough to drown in, yet opaque enough to be completely inaccessible to me in my several listens. Thankfully, I can’t even understand them half the time as the vocal deliveries across this album are downright vitriolic. Ranging from the blackened shrieks that echo throughout the album’s intro’s blast beats on “Corpus I: Prima Lux” to the burly gutturals that adorn the nearly constant breakdowns across the album, the vocal variety is really something to admire. Unfortunately, Gnostician may have pushed the envelope too far; I personally found the nearly constant multi-tracked vocals ear fatiguing in the album’s back half. Multi-tracked harshes are cool and all, but sometimes nothing beats a raw solitary vocal take like in the outro of The Tony Danza Tapdance Extravaganza’s “The Alpha the Omega.” To Gnostician’s credit, it does make good use of a spoken vocal style on tracks like “Alkazoth” and “Evaprosthetic,” breaking through the wall of gutturals and standing out in my memory.

In addition to the heady lyrics, Unification As An Art often features moments of a more cerebral compositional style that elevate the album above the traditional deathcore fare; from the already mentioned blackened atmospherics of “Corpus I: Prima Lux” to the Mastodon-esque outro of “Coagulara, Crown of the Sun” and the hip hop laden intro of “The Seventh Cycle,” each of these tracks stand head and shoulders above their peers thanks to these moments (although the latter may get too close to coworker-core for many to wholeheartedly enjoy). In fact, I found myself fiending for more moments like these on the more straight ahead cuts like “Alembic in Nature” and “Dwarf Star Partition” where I found the band’s traditional approach once again fatiguing. In any sort of -core genre, I love hearing wild experimentation, so I’d love to see what Gnostician could do if they took the same approach to their composition as they did their lyric writing.

Ultimately, I enjoyed Unification As An Art, and if it weren’t for a few missteps regarding vocal production and a few dud tracks, I’d have loved it. So while Gnostician may not have successfully revived Myspace-era deathcore, they may just be summoning something greater just so long as they keep their fervent creative energy alive and really let it run loose.

Recommended tracks: Corpus I: Prima Lux; Alkazoth; Coagulara, Crown of the Sun
You may also like: Under the Pier, The Dali Thundering Concept
Final verdict: 6.5/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | Instagram

Label: Independent

Gnostician is:
– Zach Perry
– Hunter Derr
– Ben Pypiak
– Christopher Valentin
– Logan Beaver

The post Review: Gnostician – Unification as an Art appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Technical Death Metal, Deathcore (Harsh vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Archspire, Psycroptic, Beyond Creation, The Zenith Passage
Country: Indiana, United States
Release date: 24 Jan 2025

Ah, paradise. Whether it conjures a relaxing day on the beach or an invigorating escape into the mountains, ‘paradise’ is a word that is universally evocative. On latest album Painted Paradise, Indiana-based band Fleshbore lay bare their interpretation of the word, and it looks like… technical death metal? Are we sure we have the right album here? The ethereal landscape and gentle rolling hills that grace Painted Paradise’s album cover read closer to Alcest than Necrophagist, but I suppose it’s not my place to judge a book by its cover alone. Let’s investigate what exactly paradise looks like for these Indiana boys.

A title like Painted Paradise may conjure pleasant vistas and beautiful melodicism, but Fleshbore’s latest output is anything but, relying on chaotic tech death as its base: higher-register guitars run back-and-forth relays across scales (“Inadequate”); drums are played at such a speed that counting the subdivisions is an exercise in futility (“Painted Paradise”); and room is made in the madness for at least one bass solo (“Wandering Twilight”). At this point, it’s cliché to invoke Archspire when discussing tech death, but Fleshbore’s style comes the closest of anyone I’ve heard—the rhythmic triplets and harsh rap flows that spontaneously emerge in Michael O’Hara’s vocal delivery instantly conjure Oli Peters and the neoclassical bent in Michael McGinley and Cole Chavez’s more melodic guitar moments evoke Dean Lamb on ketamine.¹ Additionally, Painted Paradise is tinged with deathcore sensibilities thanks to the inclusion of chuggy riffs (“Target Fixation”), bone-crushing breakdowns (“The World”), and gurgly low gutturals (“Setting Sun”).

Painted Paradise is at its best when it’s able to temper its brutality with melody and catchiness: while many of the heavier passages sufficiently fill every fold in my brain, what really gives the album staying power is its tactful variation between soaring guitar licks and skull-crushing heaviness. “The Ancient Knowledge,” for example, opens with a jittering start-and-stop frenzy before launching into a variety of harsh vocal flows and ominous guitar riffs, gluing the track together with repeated ideas; “Wandering Twilight” follows suit, containing an immeasurably heavy instrumental break that gives the bass a prominent role before incorporating melody in its latter sections through a gorgeous guitar solo; and “Inadequate” sees the chuggier riffs transcend their role as a tool for brutality and variation, showcasing a myriad of two-ton grooves before interweaving itself with the track’s throng of compelling solos. “Laplace’s Game” is Painted Paradise’s star highlight, though, utilizing a bouncy vocal rhythm in its verses and aggressive guitar rhythmics alongside some of the album’s catchiest moments, remaining remarkably varied without losing the plot.

I would be remiss to not talk about Painted Paradise’s vocal performance: Michael O’Hara delivers a deluge of different vocal styles, ranging from mid-register Vektor-style shrieks to lower-pitched bellows and switching haphazardly to anything inbetween. The fun O’Hara is having is palpable on tracks like “The Ancient Knowledge,” “The World,” and “Laplace’s Game,” where his rapid-fire flow gets the opportunity to interplay with guitar melodies and counteract chuggy grooves. Even though his performance may veer on indiscriminate, the bevy of styles never feel out of place, in most cases augmenting the chaotic atmosphere established by Fleshbore’s instrumentation.

However, there is indeed trouble in Painted Paradise: Fleshbore are occasionally wont to fall into deathcore tropes I don’t particularly love. “Target Fixation” suffers the most from this, over-utilizing brutal chugs and executing guitar parts that are interesting for their technicality but aren’t necessarily fun to listen to. Moreover, it has some of my least favorite vocal performances, opening with an awkward flow and incorporating grating sustained gurgles later in the track. Additionally, Painted Paradise’s chaotic songwriting clashes with its lack of a clear point of view: tracks like “Inadequate” and “The World” are an absolute blast moment-to-moment but are hard to follow as whole pieces, and this combined with an uncertain link between the music, lyricism, and idiosyncratic album name and artwork leaves me with a nagging feeling of incompleteness by Painted Paradise’s end. It’s lots of fun, it’s undoubtedly brutal, but outside of its relentless grip on my intensity-craving lizard brain, there is a missing piece that ties Painted Paradise together.

Fleshbore showcase a lot of ambition on Painted Paradise, weaving together the melodicism and speed of tech death with the abject brutality of deathcore and distinguishing themselves with a neurotic-yet-playful vocal approach. Painted Paradise is a tight release full of excitement and brutality, but its chaos leaves me wanting a more direct point of view, and a couple of the performances are either a bit rough around the edges or aren’t cohesively integrated. If your idea of paradise is a tech-death assault that barrels through ideas with abandon, then I strongly encourage you to get lost in its watercolor brutality.

Recommended tracks: Laplace’s Game, The World, Wandering Twilight, The Ancient Knowledge
You may also like: Aseitas, Misanthropy, Carnosus, First Fragment, Ophidian I
Final verdict: 7/10

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

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

Fleshbore is:
– Michael McGinley (guitars)
– Cole Chavez (guitars)
– Michael O’Hara (vocals)
– Cole Daniels (bass)
– Robin Stone (session drums)

1. Which is to say, at a standard tech-death metal pace. ︎

The post Review: Fleshbore – Painted Paradise appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: symphonic deathcore, technical death metal (harsh vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Lorna Shore, Worm Shephard, Shadow of Intent
Country: Minnesota, United States
Release date: 3 May 2024

After Worm Shephard’s The Sleeping Sun was released in 2023 I truly thought that the genre of symphonic deathcore had found its crown jewel. Sure, Lorna Shore’s Pain Remains from the year prior gleamed brightly, but The Sleeping Sun delivered in spades the level of heaviness, grandeur, and bombast that the genre had been building towards for years. Like most deathcore releases, I eventually grew tired of The Sleeping Sun after a few months; perhaps I simply spun it too much, or perhaps, as I would come to learn, The Sleeping Sun was not the best symphonic deathcore had on offer. Enter genre greenhorns Synestia & Disembodied Tyrant.

Each with their own back catalogues of singles and full releases, the two man Synestia and one man Disembodied Tyrant each had pieces of the puzzle that eventually became the collaborative EP The Poetic Edda. Combining the symphonic bent of Synestia’s previous work with the sheer brutality and clever production skills of Disembodied Tyrant created a product so addictive that the DEA may as well list it as a schedule I substance. Across its four tracks, The Poetic Edda delivers pure unadulterated deathcore fun.

The EP begins with “Death Empress,” a stellar opening that clears the path for all to follow with its crystalline symphonic production and absolutely face-melting lead guitar tone. The track weaves its way through all the stylings of modern deathcore with ease and eventually climaxes with what very well may be the best breakdown of the year thanks to its clever use of synthesized symphonic elements and other various production trickery. Yes, the string sections and choral elements are synthesized—this is an underground deathcore band we’re talking about—but at no point did I feel that the synthesized elements detracted from the final product. If anything, it opened the release up to more creative expression as it was no longer limited by physical possibility.

“I, The Devourer” scales much of the same terrain as its predecessor, taking the listener through barked verses, symphonic segues, and catchy buildups. It also features one of my favorite moments from the EP where, at its halfway point, the track breaks into a metalcore-tinged riff that propels the song straight into the solo, another track highlight. Employing a style somewhere between that of Rings of Saturn and Lorna Shore, the leadwork in combination with the machine gun fire riffage beneath it combine to create something that could only be a product of the modern music age: utterly pristine and shimmering, yet addictive and just plain fun to listen to. 

The EP’s title track sounds a lot like the previous two tracks, and it is usually here in my listen-throughs where the release’s few flaws start to show. Like a lot of deathcore, The Poetic Edda only has a few truly solid ideas and it kinda beats them to death. Yes, each breakdown rips, but you can only listen to so many rhythmic escapades that sound as though they were composed via a series of elaborate dice rolls before things start to get a little tiresome. Yes, the lead guitar and violin sound amazing in unison, but you can’t do the same thing in back to back tracks, especially on a four track EP with so little time to deliver your point.

Thankfully, The Poetic Edda shakes off the dust with its final track, a reimagining of Vivaldi’s “Winter.” When I see The Poetic Edda referenced online, this track almost always gets the first mention and rightfully so. Even though you’ve heard all these melodies before (even if you don’t think you have, trust me), Synestia & Disembodied Tyrant are able to revitalize them with blast beats, breakdowns, and brutal barking vocals; the whole thing is just plain fun. The cover is so good in fact, that I hope both bands will be able to top it with later releases; we all know what happened to Alien Ant Farm. Thankfully, Disembodied Tyrant has already released the equally high quality The Tower: Part One which sees the one man band once again shedding the symphonicism for raw aggression, and I’m sure Synestia isn’t far behind with another release of their own. Regardless of the paths these bands take in the future, I just hope that they collaborate again because The Poetic Edda is too good to happen just once. It seems that symphonic deathcore has found its crown jewel, for now.

Recommended tracks: Death Empress, Winter
You may also like: Dragoncorpse, Vermilion Dawn
Final verdict: 8.5/10

Related links: Bandcamp: Synestia, Disembodied Tyrant | Spotify: Synestia, Disembodied Tyrant | Facebook: Synestia, Disembodied Tyrant | Instagram: Synestia, Disembodied Tyrant | Metal-Archives page: Synestia

Label: Independent

Synestia is:
– Sam Melchior (guitars, orchestrations)
– Ville Hokkanen (vocals)
Disembodied Tyrant is:
– Blake Mullens (vocals, guitars, orchestrations)
– Rene Gerbrandy (drums)

The post Missed Album Review: Synestia & Disembodied Tyrant – The Poetic Edda 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.