Style: experimental, noise, dark ambient, industrial, avant-garde black metal (harsh vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Merzbow, Ben Frost
Country: Finland
Release date: 13 June 2025

“A rock pile ceases to be a rock pile the moment a single man contemplates it, bearing within him the image of a cathedral.” – Antoine de Saint-Exupery, The Little Prince

Finnish experimental metal artist Oksennus sees a pile of rocks and grinds them to dust in his deconstruction of metal, like a postmodernist would, on his newest release(s): Auringolla Ei Ole Käsiä and its sibling EP Naama Ummessa. Metal is broken down to its atoms—distortion, percussion, and vocals—and reassembled in a completely novel way. The shorter of the two EPs, Auringolla Ei Ole Käsiä, works within the confines of two tracks, each precisely 13:00 long to construct its cathedral of broken riffs and vomitous¹ vocals. 

Taking up the first half of the release, “Loppu” plays around within a unique, uncompromising atmosphere. Microtonal guitars ramble onward until gurgling vocals à la the Demilich guy on ketamine dominate the foreground—although they often drop into the background as Oksennus use the mix as an ever-shifting playground for which texture dominates. In the background, various “whooshing” noises recall a variety of things: a muted train going “chugga chugga,” shoveling snow, falling down the stairs with an electric guitar. As ominous as the sounds are unusual, Oksennus shatters conceptions of genre by dragging his distinct style of black metal from rawness to beyond—a primally unrefined ambience.

Not until “Tuli” does Oksennus make his most revelatory strides within a strictly metal framework. Beginning with inescapable blast beats in the vein of Plague Organ, he quickly contorts the rhythms into free time atop a buzzsaw guitar. As the track progresses, drum parts collapse at the seams as complex arrangements of percussion are stitched together, seemingly recorded a couple of seconds at a time. Moreover, the demented ambient noise of the first track continues throughout “Tuli” but in increasingly distorted tones—bringing them more firmly into the world of metal along with the blast beats—transitioning between the sound of blowing a raspberry and the droning vibrations of the cicada. Like how the best black metal rebels against religion and/or mankind, Oksennus is a perversion of an inimical power structure, as well.

“There is no innovation and creativity without failure. Period.” – Brené Brown

In Oksennus’ case, they rebel against the human eardrum. Auringolla Ei Ole Käsiä is nearly unlistenable without suffering the risk of a migraine, the EP transcending the comprehensive capabilities of the human mind in 2025 CE. The experimental elements mentioned are hardly intentional. The guitars are microtonal because Oksennus doesn’t know how to tune his instrument; the mixing shifts in and out of focus from engineering ineptitude; and the time is free because he can’t even program a drum correctly. Auringolla Ei Ole Käsiä is proof that the postmodernists often become satire of themselves (look into Salvatore Garau, for instance). I don’t think that Auringolla Ei Ole Käsiä was truly going for something revolutionary nor was his take a postmodernist interpretation of metal intentionally². The world of the experimental, progressive, and avant-garde will always create missteps, and Auringolla Ei Ole Käsiä is chief among them, purely as a result of Oksennus’ radical incompetence in composition and performance.

Recommended tracks: Loppu
You may also like: Jute Gyte, Botanist, Simulacra, Plague Orphan
Final verdict: 2/10

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

Label: Sacrifical Dance – Bandcamp

Oksennus is:
– K. Olavi K.virta

1. Oksennus means “vomit” in Finnish! ︎
2.  It’s a testament to how silly postmodernism can be that I bet you believed me for the first chunk of the review. ︎

The post Review: Oksennus – Auringolla Ei Ole Käsiä appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

No artist credited

Style: Doom Metal, Progressive Metal (Clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Ghost Brigade, Sunride, In The Woods…, Lunatic Soul
Country: Finland
Release date: 23 May 2025

One of the best pieces of advice I’ve picked up in my years as a critical assessor for fiction manuscripts¹ is that a work should be reviewed for what it is or tries to be, rather than what you want it to be. For example, when my dad first watched The Mummy (1999), he hated it because he expected a horror film. Once he accepted the movie for what it was trying to be—an action-horror comedy—he ended up enjoying it. This is a philosophy I’ve tried to carry over in my various creative engagements, whether that’s with movies, music, or video games, and one I’d like to think I’ve been fairly successful with in my critiques. However, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have expectations of my own when I saw that former members of Ghost Brigade had formed a new band.

For those unaware, Ghost Brigade were a much-beloved Finnish melodic death/doom band who released four albums between 2009-2014, then promptly went on hiatus before permanently disbanding in 2020. Their third LP, Until Fear No Longer Defines Us, remains my one and only experience with them—a muscular brew of gloomy doom and deliberate melodeath—but it was potent enough that seeing the name “Ghost Brigade” associated with this new venture was sufficient to stoke interest in me. Thus we arrive at Ceresian Valot and their debut Uumen—Finnish for “depths.” Let’s go spelunking, shall we?

Within moments of hearing opener “Ajattomuus / Rajattomuus,” wisps of Until Fear No Longer Defines Us’ doleful menace haunt the grounds on which Ceresian Valot tread, mostly in the mournful extended guitar lines, methodical yet flourishing drumwork, and the atmosphere of thoughtful melancholia that settles over the track like a hazy graveyard mist. As we wind into a soft electronic backbeat and clean vocals (sung entirely in Finnish, across the album), however, Ceresian Valot begin to reveal their layers. Uumen eschews melodeath entirely in favor of a folkier, more ambient approach defined by gentle looping guitars, often sharing space with the light fluttering of electronic percussion. The acoustic drums provide much of the album’s punch, partially due to their placement in the mix, securing the album’s mid-tempo thrum alongside the bigger riffs. Notes of Lunatic Soul texture the synth work (“Taivaankatsoja,” “Uumen”), standing in as a quick vector for the album’s light Gothic haze.

When the guitars take a more central and metallic role (“Pohjavirtauksia,” “Karavaaniseralji,” sections of “Ajattomuus / Rajattomuus”), Uumen shows its teeth, establishing a strong sense of groove and rhythm, practically lassoing one’s neck and forcing it into a lurching bang. The electronic elements also feel the most empowered here, laying themselves out as a velvet drape upon which the guitars can carve out fresh shapes of measured aggression and doleful melodies. Alternatively, cuts like “Uumen” and “Hyoky” present something of a musical dead-end; anemic electro-beats and thin cleans operating as interludes to Uumen’s more impassioned (and lengthy) pieces. Their inclusion might feel more inspired were the album keen to draw on harsher elements. With more aggression flowing in the mix, this would create a palatable necessity for such ambient detours. Stacked against the comparatively lighter—and dronier—touches of Uumen’s chosen aesthetic, however, I’m not entirely sold on their inclusion.

That said, as mentioned, it’s important to try and take things at the value by which they wish to sell themselves. Ceresian Valot are not Ghost Brigade, nor are they particularly interested in being so. Yes, there are notes of that former band lurking around, but I believe this says more about the associated members’ style and internalized approaches than any active effort to resuscitate their previous sonic adventures. Uumen, according to the band, stands as “dynamic and multidimensional with a broad range of sound and vision [including] alternative, rock, progressive, and various genres of metal.” Which brings me to a different issue, connected entirely to Uumen’s ambitions. In book reviewing, I’ve learned that the more “awards” a book touts in its marketing copy, the higher chance the content will be poor. Likewise, I’ve learned to read band promos with a similar level of wariness. Thankfully, Uumen is hardly a bad album—in fact, I’ve found it rather pleasant to listen to, its vibes decidedly relaxing despite (or perhaps because of) their melancholic intentions. I just think the band’s aims have outpaced the album’s reach, is all. Uumen is a doom metal album, feathered with touches of folk and echoes of electronica to help secure its progressive tagging. Pick any of the non-interlude tracks off the album, and you’ll have experienced all the strata of Uumen. Moody, driving riffs; mournful guitar lines; dreamscape electronics; punchy, methodical drums; all wrapped around clean vocals that never really move the needle off of “gentle.”

And you know what? I’m fine with that. Do I wish Uumen were more of what made Until Fear No Longer Defines Us so special to me? Sure, absolutely. I miss the interplay between Ghost Brigade’s deep, melodramatic cleans and monstrous growls. The way the heavy melodeath riffs and thundering kitwork instilled a sense of urgency and danger—and just pure Gothic epicness—to everything. Ceresian Valot seek a more introspective route. And while the decision to root the lyrics in Finnish might harm my ability to read into the accuracy of that approach, I respect that the band wanted to try something different from what (most of) them had created before. Uumen may not be a perfect album—it’s a tad one-dimensional, the vocals are underwhelming, and the programmed bits struggle to justify themselves in meaningful ways—but I can’t sit here and act like I didn’t glean enjoyment from what it wanted to be. What it was: forty-four minutes of chilled-out Gothic doom.

Recommended tracks: Taivaankatsoja, Karavaaniseralji, Valojuovat, Pohjavirtauksia
You may also like: Church of the Sea, Error Theory, Year of the Cobra, Hermyth
Final verdict: 6/10

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

Label: Prophecy Productions – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Ceresian Valot is:
– Ville Angervuori (bass)
– Wille Naukkarinen (guitar, programming)
– Panu Perkiömäki (vocals)
– Veli-Matti Suihkonen (drums, percussion)
– Joni Vanhanen (keyboards, vocals, programming)
– Tapio Vartiainen (guitar)

1.  A fancy way to say “book reviewer” ︎

The post Review: Ceresian Valot – Uumen appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Black metal, folk metal (Mixed vocals, mostly harsh)
Recommended for fans of: Moonsorrow, Saor, Dissection, Immortal
Country: Finland
Release date: 28 February 2025

We’ve all been there: you’re out enjoying your commune-with-nature, and all of a sudden, a bunch of bishops stroll into town and try to upend your way of life. Those guys are absolute jerks, thinking they can come in without fanfare and force you into a completely new belief system. Wouldn’t it just be better if they, I don’t know, were chased into the forests to the north? The people of 13th-century Finland can’t help but agree, and black metal outfit Havukruunu are here to recount the story of how the Tavastians reclaimed their pagan traditions on latest record Tavastland. Will you revel in their tale, or is this a piece of history best left forgotten? 

Havukruunu’s brand of pagan black metal is reminiscent of fellow Finns Moonsorrow, composing tracks with a base of anthemic riffage and extended instrumental breaks. On Tavastland, they adorn their sound with any number of cinematic embellishments, typically through group chanting (“Yönsynty”, “Unissakävijä”), larger-than-life solos (“Kuolematon Laulunhenki”, “De Miseriis Fennorum”), or folk interludes (”Kuoleman Oma”, “Havukruunu ja Talvenvarjo”). Tavastland’s compositions are fairly unstructured, preferring to wander from riff to riff while retaining a central mood, though opener “Kuolematon Laulunhenki” makes a point to reprise its opening ideas at its end. Through voice-overs accompanied with a haunting owl-like flute, the album recounts vignettes from the villagers’ perspective just before the exile of Tavastia’s bishops in the 13th century.

When working within a less structured songwriting framework, moment-by-moment interest becomes paramount to retaining the listener’s attention. Havukruunu by and large succeed at this on Tavastland, particularly when leaning fully into aggressive black metal passages. “Kuolematon Laulunhenki” utilizes a bevy of playing styles to maintain interest, adding lightning-speed flourishes to the opening ideas and effortlessly transitioning from chunky mid-paced riffage to a chilling solo later in the track. “Havukruunu ja Talvenvarjo” features some of Tavastland’s best riffs, iterating on an ethereal and hypnotic motif that begins as an impassioned trek across a moonlit snowy forest and ends contemplative and heartbroken. Closer “De Miseriis Fennorum” effectively utilizes a similar trick in its middle section, recontextualizing spellbinding tremolos over a series of morphing drum patterns, each giving the riff a distinct feel and creating a sense of motion while staying in the same place melodically. The final moments of “De Miseriis Fennorum” are distinctly free-form with a wall of buzzing guitars and strings giving way to a lonely wind, alluding to the slow and icy death of the exiled Tavastian bishops.

Strong guitarwork comprises the core of Tavastland’s sound: a track’s success is contingent on the success of its riffs. Conversely, this means that when the riffs don’t work, the songs don’t quite work either, as the undeniably enjoyable folk facets aren’t quite able to hold up Havukruunu’s compositions alone. As a consequence, about half of Tavastland’s tracks are wholly adrenaline-pumping forays into the harsh wilderness, and the other half are one part spectacular and one part serviceable at best. This dip in excitement typically happens when the band slows down, as their ability to write more languid pieces doesn’t entirely stand toe-to-toe with their faster, more aggressive moments. “Yönsynty”, for example, features a spectacular beginning with gorgeous riff-chant interplay, but loses steam by its end at the hands of relatively anonymous riffage. “Kuoleman Oma” suffers the same problem in reverse: the track takes a bit too long to build momentum around its acoustic beginnings, though it closes on an ascendant solo that charges headfirst into tumbling and powerful guitar melodies. Additionally, the track features gorgeously intertwining acoustic guitar and bass halfway through, showing that the band are indeed capable of writing compelling passages both fast and slow.

Embellished by somber folk instrumentation and a menacing historical retelling, Tavastland rarely takes a break from its unrelenting wintry assault. When leaning into its more aggressive tendencies, the album shines the most, expertly iterating and recontextualizing riffs in a free-form songwriting framework. Though Tavastland never descends into unlistenability, its noticeable lulls do cause the experience to drag at times. Nonetheless, Havukruunu have once again proven their acumen for black metal songwriting and demonstrated themselves as worthy bearers of the crown of pinecones.

Recommended tracks: Havukruunu ja Talvenvarjo, Kuolematon Laulunhenki, Tavastland, De Miseriis Fennorum
You may also like: Ungfell, Thrawsunblat, Cân Bardd, Fellwarden
Final verdict: 7/10

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

Label: Svart Records – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Havukruunu is:
– Stefa (vocals, guitars, keyboards)
– Bootleg-Henkka (guitars)
– Humö (bass)
– Kostajainen (drums)

The post Review: Havukruunu – Tavastland appeared first on The Progressive Subway.