Artwork by: Eirini Grammenou

Style: Progressive Metalcore (Mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Erra, Silent Planet, Thornhill (The Dark Pool), Polaris, Currents
Country: Greece
Release date: 30 May 2025

Little time was lost by my colleagues when it came to sniffing out facets of my musical inclinations. Some sides of a stone sparkle brighter than others, after all. As a result of their sleuthing, I’ve been dubbed “the metalcore guy;” a badge some may wear with shame, yet one I proudly present to the world. Works like Sempiternal (Bring Me The Horizon), The Death of Peace of Mind (Bad Omens), and Silent Planet’s entire discography rank amongst some of my favorite albums. There’s something activating about the dichotomy of hefty angst and (often) uplifting choruses, that vein of emotionality which inform the genre. Oh, and the breakdowns, of course. One can’t overlook a great, neck-snapping, back-throwing breakdown. I was thus presented with a recommendation: The Longing Light, debut EP from progressive metalcore newbies Nonlinear. Being the metalcore guy that I am, I accepted.

First things first. Please, oh please for the love of all that is right and good in this world, stop with the instrumental / ambient opening tracks. This is an issue that plagues more than metalcore, an infection of the wider metalsphere, and few are the bands who can properly justify the inclusion. EPs, by their very nature, offer limited listening capacity, and to waste one of those precious slots on such needless aurafarming veers close to criminal. I could overlook it if “Awakening” segued into list mate “Monochrome Chamber,” but it doesn’t. Instead, “Monochrome Chamber” hits reset on The Longing Light’s flow, offering up decidedly Silent Planet-flavored synths alongside a central riff that bends and skips like something out of the pre-Iridescent days. It’s a cool opening for a song, and feels far more natural than “Awakening.”

That said, what surprised me about Nonlinear is their ability to pull from a variety of different styles within the metalcore world. Most notably, The Longing Light features warping Silent Planet riffs and breakdowns (“Monochrome Chamber,” “The Longing Light”), uplifting pop-centered hooks and guitars à la early Polaris (“Reflections”), and the interplay between the roiling harshes and ethereal cleans courtesy of Erra. The record even features a trip hop-inspired instrumental at the midway point that calls to mind Post Human-era Bring Me The Horizon. And while this represents something of an identity crisis for the group, their newness cannot be overlooked. Hewing to influences is natural; metal of all stripes has been cannibalizing and laterally reproducing since pretty much its inception. Whether Nonlinear can shape these elements into something more recognizably their own is something only time can be sure of.

Where difficulties lie ahead, I fear, is less with appropriation of sound and more in the execution. To be clear, none of the performances here are bad, but neither are they activating in that special way great metalcore can be. The harsh vocals, while occasionally spicing things up with a good “blegh!” and a snarl here and there, come across rather one-dimensional and forced in their toughness, while the thinness of the cleans strip them of any real power. Yet, on “Reflections,” both approaches feel empowered by the Polaris-coded aesthetics in ways they struggle to provide on most of The Longing Light’s scant twenty-two minutes. Similarly, the music never really finds the hooks needed to grab the listener. “Reflections” probably comes closest, especially when it transitions from an introspective bridge into an ascendant closing moment as the drums build into a rumbling gallop around heaven-sent vocalization. Oddly enough, “Holding On” finds similar legs to stand on, despite being a short-lived instrumental; the trip hop groove and pulse-y synths forge an easy rhythm and vibe to settle into. “The Longing Light” seeks heartstring territory with its searching cleans, think-space carving breakdown, and writhing guitars, but never quite manages to pull off the sense of emotional authenticity required to succeed.

Nonlinear are trapped in a bit of an odd quandary. On one hand, their ability to incorporate various flavors of metalcore into their sound is admirable. But on the other, the band are perhaps using these sounds as crutches to hold up songwriting which otherwise lacks the necessary kung-fu grip. I’m a firm believer that iteration sits above originality when it comes to artistic pursuits. However, Nonlinear have yet to escape the shadows of their perceived influences and fully step into the light they long for, relying too much on recognizable moments to help them color within the lines of this largely paint-by-numbers sound. At the end of the day, The Longing Light is perfectly fine, but hardly essential. Luckily, Nonlinear have plenty of time to hone their craft. I have faith. After all, Bad Omens transitioned from a Bring Me The Horizon clone to writing The Death of Peace of Mind. Never say never. Keep looking for that light.

Recommended tracks: Reflections, Holding On, The Longing Light
You may also like: Save Your Last Breath, Artemis Rising, Simbulis
Final verdict: 5/10

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

Label: Independent

Nonlinear is:
– Konstantinos Chitas (clean vocals, guitar)
– Nikos Koudounas (bass)
– Alexander Louropoulos (guitar)
– Christos Papakonstantinou (drums)
– George Plaskasovitis (vocals)
With guests:
– Vrodex (feat. on “Holding On”)

The post Review: Nonlinear – The Longing Light appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Progressive metal (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Black Crown Initiate, Textures, early The Contortionist
Country: Minnesota, USA
Release date: 6 June 2025

Retooling. If you’re the sort of person who assiduously watches sitcoms from their first season, you’ll be familiar with retooling. It’s the process by which a TV show is changed in order to alter a faulty premise into a more successful one, often by removing or adding a character, or changing the tone. Perhaps the most familiar example to my generation would be Parks and Recreation, which was retooled in its second season from a snarky The Office replica into a more heartwarming and slightly cartoonishly humoured show with the introduction of two new characters to incite tensions, both sexual and financial. Other famous examples include Star Trek (the entire cast of the initial pilot was replaced), Dallas (after killing off major character Bobby Ewing, the show suffered a catastrophic nose-dive in ratings and decided to reintroduce dead Bobby by revealing the entire season was a dream), and, of course, Family Matters. Starting out as a blue-collar take on The Cosby Show, Family Matters became completely restructured around the initial one-time character of Steve Urkell (‘did I do that?’) and subsequently turned, as Key and Peele put it, ‘into goddamn Quantum Leap.’¹

Minnesotan outfit Giant’s Knife are arguably the Parks and Recreation of prog metal, changing tone a little with the help of two new characters. Their 2021 debut Oracle was a fully instrumental work with a post-djent flavour; heavy riffs but with a melodic focus, with a strong emphasis on flow. On sophomore At the End of All Things, alongside the founding trio (Austin, Rylan, and Tony), the band have found their very own financial and sexual tension-makers in the form of Kyle and Will who both provide guitar work—while Kyle and Rylan unleash the clean and harsh vocals. Will audiences welcome the new cast or are they destined for cancellation after just two seasons, ala every single Netflix show post-2017?

Opening with a nod to their past, the five minute instrumental opener “Wayfarer” provides a throughline from Oracle, contextualising Giant’s Knife new shtick within the evolution of their sound. At the End of All Things truly begins with “Beyond the Reach of Comets” where the vocals finally get to walk on to cheers from the live-studio audience, showcasing the new range of metalcore barks, death growls, and soaring chorus cleans. It turns out that Giant’s Knife with vocals sound more like Textures, and, in the softer moments, like The Contortionist. With stronger production and those harshes guiding them, Giant’s Knife also sound newtons heavier, often veering into the djentrified progressive death stylings of Black Crown Initiate or even, to my ear, Whitechapel. 

Soft harmonies befitting the likes of The Contortionist or Tesseract perforate many of the tracks, such as the refrains of “Godfall” and “Beyond the Reach of Comets”; with the atmospheres of interlude “Loading…” and synthy outro palette cleanser “Null” occupying a similar sonic space to the aforementioned bands. “Where Souls Lie Still” almost verges on post-hardcore akin to The Safety Fire with its more anthemic sensibility. These moments are always done, just like the best sitcom comedies, with a powerful sense of tension and release.

Over time, however, we inevitably end up hitting on the usual plot beats and tropes that hold an otherwise promising cast back: the open low-string breakdowns that infect “Beyond the Reach of Comets”, a tendency to stick to a similar tempo for most songs, and the usual filler djent riffs that feel a little lazy, such as the one that plagues “Godfall”. For the most part, these issues are at least interwoven into compositions which tend to evolve over the course of songs, and rarely linger too long on a single idea; clearly part of the legacy of starting out instrumental and needing to keep the compositions moving. By the time the lumbering outro riff of “Molten Core” hits its nadir, you really do feel like you’ve hit the void. Meanwhile, “Destined Death” pushes the instrumental work in the ‘faces in the sky’ section to a delicious extreme, the vocal delivery providing a throughline while the kit is pulverised ever more intensely and the riffs become more frenetic. When Giant’s Knife hit upon an epic clean section or push the complexity of the instruments to further extremes they find their best pay-offs. At other times, like a sitcom where everything has to return to normal by the end, the audience leaves entertained but without memorable moments to hold in their mind. 

At a svelte thirty-nine minutes, At the End of All Things runs a tad longer than the average sitcom, but the retooling has put a good show on a new path, one guaranteed to find the Minnesotan five-piece a larger audience. With slightly stronger writing, a willing fanbase, and maybe a guest spot from Henry Winkler, Giant’s Knife’s promising fresh start could blossom into something truly brilliant. Let’s hope they get renewed for a third season. 

Recommended tracks: Beyond the Reach of Comets, Godfall, Where Souls Lie Still
You may also like: Rannoch, Subterranean Lava Dragon
Final verdict: 7/10

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

Label: Independent

Giant’s Knife is:
– Austin (guitars, programming)
– Kyle (guitars, vocals)
– Will (guitars)
– Rylan (bass, vocals)
– Tony (drums)

1. “I’m a fuckin’ actor, Gene, I’ve done more cocaine than you weigh, motherfucker!” ︎

The post Review: Giant’s Knife – At the End of All Things appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

No artist credited

Style: Progressive Metal, Alternative Metal, Metalcore, Doom Metal (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Oathbreaker, Svalbard, Dawn of Ouroboros
Country: United Kingdom
Release date: 28 March 2025

One of my favorite current filmmakers is Robert Eggers. Across his four feature-length films (The VVitch, The Lighthouse, The Northman, and Nosferatu), he has deployed a sophisticated form of Gothic and Folk Horror drenched in bleak atmospheres and rigid historical framing, anointed in a blood-and-earth occultism pulled from mankind’s deepest, and darkest, spiritual roots. From this, he often conjures a visceral, powerful femininity at odds with patriarchal society’s desired—that is, demure—version. His witches are beguiling and primal, disposing of glamor for red-teethed hexcraft; mermaids tap into some mythic power to unmake man’s sanity; a would-be victim marks her captor with her own blood in violent defiance; a woman possessed of a spirit so emotionally resonant she can commune with forces across the cosmic gulf—and, so happens to be the only one capable of saving the very world which decried her gifts as hysterics.

Similarly, southern UK act Forlorn emerge as if from mist-choked fens to besiege our woefully ignorant “civilization” with vivid remembrances of Earth’s oldest nights. Inspired by horror cinema and headed by actual witch, Megan Jenkins, (in turn backed by her warlockian brothers-in-steel, Edd Kerton and Eathan White-Aldworth (guitars), James Tunstall (bass), and Jay Swinstead (drums)), Forlorn play a vicious blend of progressive metalcore and hardcore they’ve dubbed “folk horror.” Aether marks their debut full-length, following EP Sael in 2023 and a scattering of singles. Convinced by early releases like “Redeem, Release” and “Forsaken,” I was eager to sup of this witch’s brew.

Opener “Mother of Moon” establishes the album’s folk horror aspirations immediately with a summoner’s circle-worth of chanting and thundering buildup before fading into a smoky haze of silence. “Creatress” emerges from the silver-limned primordium like a seething nightmare, claws raking the bonfire-lit night with jagged riffage, cloven feet beating against the soil in a wash of energetic kit work as she howls her melancholy to the distant stars. The song is equal parts vicious and ethereal, with Jenkins’ plaintive cleans counterpointing her roiling growls. Razored chugs and tribal drumming give way to a brief black metal-flavored run of blast beats and rising tremolos, the bass burbling beneath like a promise sealed in blood.

This juxtaposition of haunting beauty and grinding, violent metalcore chaos is sown deep within Aether’s structure, yet no song feels derivative of its neighbor. “The Wailing” has a bounce and groove separate from “Creatress,” with Jenkins closing out on a moody invocation bringing to mind the hexen oeuvre of Gospel of the Witches’ Salem’s Wounds (2015). There’s something of Iridescent-era Silent Planet living in the throaty chugs comprising the main guitar line of “Funeral Pyre.” Jenkins channels the violent yet purifying nature of fire as she screams “I’ll see you all in Hell,” and pulls out some truly bestial lows for the song’s ending. “Keeper of the Well” carries whiffs of gothic doom amidst the grinding guitars, while closer “Spirit” completes this moonlit ritual with breathy gusto and visceral proclamation, promising “When the world splits open, I will be here” before intertwining with the aether of the natural world amidst punctuating guitars like ritual knives piercing flesh.

If I’ve any rune-carved bone to pick with Aether, I would point this particular rib at the “filler” tracks. At a lean 26 minutes and with only eight total offerings, sacrificing three to the altar of intro/interludes feels a tad wasteful. However, it’s hard to deny that, aside from “Mother of Moon,” both “Matrum Noctem” and “Veiled One” flow smoothly along the album’s leylines, to the point where I consistently forgot they were individual tracks and not extensions of their predecessors. I’m not usually one to demand more from a record, but in Aether’s case, I can’t help but crave more of this wicked mana surging through my ears.

Yet, if I’ve learned anything from witch movies, it’s that the longer a spell goes on, the greater chance there is of disaster. Forlorn have opted for quality over quantity. In so doing, they’ve ensured Aether never wanes. This choice encourages repeat listens, affording the participant time and space to really immerse themselves in the details, helped along by a punchy production empowering every element—from the emotive shifts in Jenkins’ voice, to the low-end buzz of Tunstall’s bass, and Swinstead’s tasty fills—to achieve maximum clarity and effect. The only victim here is some of the atmospheric elements, which can feel a bit lost in the fog, but if anything this adds to the fun of Aether’s replayability.

“Feel me in your skin, taste me in each breath,” Jenkins intones on “Spirit.”

Aether is a vessel of musical communion. A dark, beguiling fairy-tale of the Grimm variety, steeped in the primeval power of Nature and her forgotten children. Effortlessly summoning images of blazes in northern skies and deep, ancestral woods. A bridge back to ancient places from before mankind forsook the natural world and walled it away behind the cold, dehumanizing logic of modern civilization. Like Eggers’, Forlorn have crafted a viscerally feminine, occult work in Aether, one that—in a time where our mechanized patriarchal world feels increasingly hostile to the human spirit—offers the kind of comfort that helps music transcend “good” to become something great.

Recommended tracks: Creatress, The Wailing, Funeral Pyre, Keeper of the Well, Spirit
You may also like: Karyn Crisis’ Gospel of the Witches, Ithaca, Predatory Void, Venom Prison
Final verdict: 8.5/10

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

Label: Church Road Records – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Forlorn is:
– Megan Jenkins (vocals)
– Edd Kerton (guitars)
– Eathan White-Aldworth (guitars)
– James Tunstall (bass)
– Jay Swinstead (drums)

The post Review: Forlorn – Aether appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Progressive metal, metalcore (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Between the Buried and Me, early The Contortionist
Country: Finland
Release date: 8 November 2024

Earlier in the year, myself and my colleague Zach tag teamed a little album called Reconciliation by ALMO. Despite making a few ripples in the underground, we were less than impressed because of the tendency to borrow liberally from other bands: homages to Periphery, Devin Townsend, Haken and Between the Buried and Me abounded, sometimes so blatantly as to be offensive. This week, I was in our little music detective office with my feet up, smoking a stogie and sipping whisky listening to a jazz record when Zach came into the office: “Gee, boss,” he said, “There’s another case of musical homage gone awry. We’d better investigate.”

“TO THE PROGMOBILE!”

Coma Control’s debut Perennial starts well enough; the Between the Buried and Me influence is palpable in the sweeping solo over portentous chords, but we can forgive a little influence, can’t we? And sure, when the harsh vocals come in, you do think “hey, this guy really sounds like Tommy”, but a lot of singers sound like other singers, right? Unfortunately, as you get further into the album, it becomes apparent that Coma Control are determined to stand in the shadow of the one band they’ve heard. Of course, BTBAM are one of the most talented and complex bands in the prog scene; sounding this much like them takes a hell of a lot of talent, it just doesn’t suggest an original sound.

But perhaps I’m being unfair. To their credit, Coma Control jettison the zany tangents that are so indelible to BTBAM’s sound, and they lean on the heavier side, occasionally veering into melodeath as on the opening to “Scour the Air” or the majority of “Mending Arms”. This is the jewel in Perennial’s crown, opening with an eerie tribal rhythm and segueing into a delicious melodeath riff, the entire song highlights a slightly more original mode of composition with adventurous chords and blast beats providing a template of how Coma Control could evolve beyond their influences. 

In the meantime, however, we have to contend with the… let’s call them ‘homages’. The calm mid-section on “Scour the Air” is ripped straight out of Parallax II, and closing track “Don’t Sleep or You’ll Fall” opens with a riff that’s far too close to the staccato climactic riff in “Silent Flight Parliament”. “Reunion: Regression”, meanwhile, borrows a little too liberally from “Memory Palace”. Sometimes the homages are less blatant but still noticeable—“Don’t Sleep or You’ll Fall”, for example, ends in a theatrical manner which feels just like “Goodbye to Everything”; I believe the young folk call this ‘writing in the same font’. We’ve said it a hundred times: sound too much like another artist and all you’re going to do is give the listener a hankering to listen to them instead of you; as Julian Barnes once put it, “who wants plonk when you can get château bottled?”

Coma Control aren’t the first band to sound really similar to a band they admire, nor will they be the last, but it’s simply not that interesting to listen to a band whose guiding compositional philosophy seems to be a WWBTBAMD bracelet. Certainly, it takes talent to sound this much like one of progressive metal’s most beloved acts, but it takes more talent to develop your own original take on that sound. Coma Control demonstrate that they could do that with tracks like “Mending Arms” but first they need to lay their ghosts to rest.

Recommended tracks: Mending Arms, Scour the Air
You may also like: Luna’s Call, ALMO, Rototypical
Final verdict: 6/10

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

Label: Independent

Coma Control is:
– Tapio Honka (probably everything? All I’ve got to go on is Metallum)

The post Review: Coma Control – Perennial appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: progressive death metal, metalcore, djent (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Between the Buried and Me, Periphery, Native Construct, Vildhjarta
Country: Illinois, United States
Release date: 3 May 2024

Immortality Complex is the latest album from the Illinois based djent/deathcore turned prog metal band Resuscitate. Formed by multi-instrumentalist Evan Van Dyne in 2018, Resuscitate has now released three full length albums, but Immortality Complex promises to be the most dynamic and progressive thanks to the addition of Joshua McKenney as clean vocalist, although Van Dyne remains as the primary songwriter and instrumentalist.

From the very first note of opener “Quoque Distet (What Do You See?)” the scope that Resuscitate is striving for on Immortality Complex becomes apparent. McKenney’s sultry cleans introduce the album’s concept, a bleak future that has abandoned reason in search of immortality, as MIDI strings and other chiming keyboards introduce motifs that pave the way for heavier instruments to enter. The searing guitar solo that follows the first stanza is superbly placed, and its restraint speaks to a melodic sophistication that makes each line that much catchier. By the time the drums kicked in and the track fell into its BTBAM-esque syncopated breakdown, I was stuck hook, line, and sinker, and the continued use of catchy melodic guitars and aching clean vocals that followed only further enthralled me.

“Radiating the Disease” continues in much the same manner as the opening track, with an opening riff that could have been lifted directly from any late-era BTBAM track without anyone batting an eye. Thankfully, we don’t remain squarely planted in BTBAM-land for long; the beautifully enunciated harsh vocals, also performed by Van Dyne, have a deathcore edge that goes a long way towards making the zanier riffs seem heavier. Still, melody, fueled by McKenney’s stellar cleans and Van Dyne’s scorching leadwork, remains the driving force even when the track extends itself towards the realm of symphonic blackened death metal in its back half. When the two melodic elements briefly meet and harmonize at transition points, it’s as though entire universes are created in their friction. However, despite how deadset each element had seemed in its purpose, this track contains one truly questionable songwriting choice: there’s a waltz section. Right after the song’s first climactic solo, there’s an acoustic, half-time waltz in 3/4. To say it disrupts the song’s flow would be an understatement, although I’m sure that fans of Native Construct and BTBAM will eat it up. I, however, just find it plain silly and completely unnecessary when placed in the midst of what would otherwise be an absolute ripper.

Thankfully, Resuscitate follows with what is undoubtedly the best track on the album, “Immortality Complex.” From the beautifully dissonant intro that rivals the likes of Artificial Brain to the instantly catchy verse vocals and riffs and truly epic guitar solos in the back half, this track puts an ache in my chest quite unlike anything else recently. When the first solo hits, tingles run down my spine and when McKenney screams “We can start over!” I can’t help but scream along. Oh, and the Max Mobarry feature slaps if you’re into Others by No One. I can’t promise that you’ll be as emotionally responsive to this track as I was, but I must implore you to try. Songwriting-wise, the title track is also where Resuscitate really hits their stride. Quite reminiscent of last year’s Zon by The World is Quiet Here albeit a bit toned down in terms of complete insanity, the style is what I’d expect from a modern deathcore turned prog metal band.

So how do you follow up what I’d say is the best song of the year so far? Well according to Resuscitate, you abandon any and all ethos and emotional impact garnered by the previous track and lay down a lame swung piano diddy instead. Oh man, do I dislike “The Great Filter.” It has the same issues as the end of “Radiating the Disease,” just ten times more pronounced. It makes me see why some people say they can’t stand the genre switching of bands like BTBAM; and I love BTBAM! The album’s nineteen-minute epic closer “Reclamation” does a lot to wash the bad taste of the previous track out of my mouth with its decadent rhythmic interplay between the guitars and harsh vocals, a stellar djent section that finally pays off on all the rhythmic promises the album had been making thus far, and a thall-styled outro that rivals the likes of Vildhjarta on their best day. Although I’d argue that there are a few transitions that feel a bit padded for length, the track more than earns its run time.

So where does Immortality Complex fall scorewise? That’s a tricky question–one of the many reasons in fact why this review took so long for me to write. There are moments on this record that are magnificent, where a grand scope and a razor fine attention to detail meet and make magic. There are other moments such as large chunks of “Radiating the Disease” and “The Great Filter” where I can’t help but roll my eyes at some of the songwriting choices. If you’re a fan of bands like Native Construct and BTBAM and you loved last year’s Zon, I’m sure that you’ll find great enjoyment here. If you’re a person that needs a bit more motivation behind your zany songwriting choices, your mileage will vary; there’s still three utterly killer tracks to be found here. Anyways, when you see my score below you’ll realize that I fall into the first camp.

Recommended tracks: Immortality Complex, Reclamation, Radiating the Disease
You may also like: The World is Quiet Here, Others by No One, Drewsif, Alustrium
Final verdict: 8.5/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | Instagram

Label: independent

Resuscitate is:
– Evan Van Dyne (guitar, bass, vocals, drums, mixing, mastering)
– Joshua McKenney (vocals)
– DJ Martel (orchestral arrangement [track 1-4])
– Jake Farhang (orchestral arrangement [track 5])

The post Review: Resuscitate – Immortality Complex appeared first on The Progressive Subway.