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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Label: Antiq – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

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

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

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

Art by Ai-lan Metzger

Style: Symphonic death metal, progressive death metal (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Fleshgod Apocalypse, Gorgon, Haggard, Septicflesh
Country: Switzerland
Release date: 14 March, 2025

My girlfriend and I, as two creative people, are in staunch agreement on why most creatives don’t make it. Hell, it can even be extended to a reason why most people don’t make it: self-reflection. Creating and releasing a piece of music is bearing a piece of your soul to the world, and in the age of the internet, it’s swimming along with all ten-trillion other minnows in the same pond. The internet is ruthless when it comes to criticism, and it can drive a lot of artists to feel that their work isn’t the problem, but themselves. How could you not? To have something you’ve worked so hard on be torn to shreds can’t be easy, hence why if I find a band with actual talent, I express disappointment rather than disgust.

I’ve rarely thought of the symphonic swirls and meat-headed riffing of Kerberos. My review of their incredibly mediocre debut, Of Dismay and Mayhem, wasn’t one I’m especially proud of, nor did the album provide a very memorable experience overall. But like every mildly talented band who make mediocre albums, I give them a challenge at the end of my review. I expected more from Kerberos, especially with an actual choir and obvious classical composition experience under their belt. So, like the arbiter of music that I am, I threw my mediocre score in their faces, looked down from my throne with an expression of mild pity, and asked them to try harder. Never did I expect them to actually follow up with an improvement.  

Kerberos took that Dismay review personally. Not by sending us piles of hate mail or threatening to blow up our secret underwater headquarters, but by possibly not paying attention to my review at all, and getting their asses to work. I’m going to give praise where praise is due, with the first bit of it focused on clean vocalist Ai-lan Metzger. I was incredibly critical of her cleans on Of Dismay and Mayhem, and rightfully so. Hearing her operatically harmonize with harsh vocals in ‘Near-Violence Experience’ made me do a double take. Instead of crashing into the song as she did last time around, she gracefully weaves her way through string-quartet accented riffs. The contrast between seventh string chugs, vocal acrobatics between her and bassist/guitarist Felicien Burkhard, and all the grandeur that their debut was missing was enough to make me sit my ass down and hear Kerberos out for the rest of this unfortunately brief EP.

Apostle is a mere 25 minutes long, half the length of its predecessor and all the better for it. It’s much better to be left wanting more than wanting the record to be over. With only two songs over 5  minutes, the EP blows past in a flurry of furious riffing and graceful symphonics. There’s less “paint-by-numbers” songwriting than there was on the debut, and by making things a bit more adventurous and prog-leaning this time around, it helps the case that Kerberos have genuinely improved as a band. The neoclassical elements, like in intro track ‘Praeludium in H Moli’, speak volumes in the band’s newfound sense of identity. The band as a whole seem more confident, having a clear vision of what they want the album to sound like, rather than trying to jam symphonic elements where they shouldn’t be.

‘Alpine Sea’ adds an even larger layer of neoclassical elements. Beginning with thundering drums over recorder and strings, the band brings in their “Kerberos Choir”, conducted by Burkhard himself. Once again, the contrast between Metzger’s far-improved cleans and all-male choir accents makes this band unrecognizable from their debut. It’s not just the vocals that are improved this time around either. Burkhard’s wizardry with a fretless bass is on full display here, heard with the insane, Obscura-esque shredding on ‘Near-Violence Experience’, but he knows when to let the rest of the band speak for themselves. He adds a slight Chuck Schuldiner spin to his performance.

 There are a lot of layers on Apostle to the Malevolent, and while I love to see them all on full display, there’s still one major roadblock Kerberos continues to face on their musical journey: the production. The mastering of this record is lacking, though there are improvements from the debut. I’m kind of shocked that this is the same producer behind Virvum’s Illuminance, as that’s one of the few tech-death albums that averts the plastic-y, overproduced sound commonly found in the genre. The drums and guitar are way too thin, and when the band get their dramatics going, they tend to get lost within the busy mix. The guitar tone is muddy, and only tends to clear up when the whole band is present. However, I’ll give credit where credit’s due—the bass is ever-present, and I can hear Burkhard’s noodling most of the time.

Productional quibbles aside, Kerberos‘ improvement on Apostle to the Malevolent is not something I expected on my 2025 bingo card, but it’s certainly a welcome inclusion. Through a contrast in vocal acrobatics and riffage along with a tasteful layering of virtuosic performances, the band has taken several measures to improve their sound. Though the production is still a little rough to the point of detriment and Apostle is too short to really sink into its ideas, Kerberos‘ new direction has me eager to see how they expand on and evolve their new-and-improved sound.

Recommended tracks: Near-Violence Experience, Alpine Sea
You may also like: Sentire
Final verdict: 6.5/10

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

Label: Independent

Kerberos is:
– Felicien Burkard (Guitars, bass, vocals)
– Nicolas Kaser (Drums)
– Ai-lan Metzger (Vocals)

– Diego Lanzendorfer (Guitars)

The post Review: Kerberos – Apostle to the Malevolent appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Art by Adam Burke

Style: Progressive death metal, progressive black metal (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Opeth, Ne Obliviscaris, Insomnium, Disillusion, Kardashev, Wintersun, Wilderun
Country: Arizona, United States
Release date: 14 March 2025

“Hope is a stupid concept” – Andy, 2025

Dune, by Frank Herbert, is in my humble opinion, the greatest book ever written. A story of a young boy turned chosen one messiah is played so painfully realistic that Herbert then had to write a whole sequel book for those who missed the arguably blatant point. Hope is dangerous, and do not put blind faith in those who sell it to you. It’s what makes Denis Villeneuve’s adaptation all the more perfect, complete with people who, again, clearly missed the point. In an age of unparalleled growth for all forms of media, the art of catharsis has been lost in the doldrums of “content”. Dune puts characters through the wringer, and by the end, Paul Atreides is not the character you started with, having lost all that made him human in the pursuit of revenge. Paul, like the audience, wants catharsis.

Dune is not a happy story, and like all good science fiction, serves as a warning. It should make you upset, despite an incredibly satisfying endpoint. Dessiderium—and by extension, its one-man member Alex Haddad—is no stranger to the concept of catharsis, being as familiar as he is with literary devices. The one man project, despite the usual symphonic/prog-death flair, has become an outlet for Haddad to write music set to poetry and poetry set to huge riffs. Sounding as pretentious as I am, Dessiderium tends to be a lot more literary than other bands of the same nature. This material is a reflection of Haddad’s ten-year journey, with a lot of it written far prior to masterpieces Shadow Burn and Aria. Hence why I’m going to be treating Keys to the Palace as a third part in his (possibly unintentional) thematic trilogy.

The aforementioned two, the latter of which became my AOTY in 2021, are bleak albums. The former is conceptually about flirting with suicide and seemingly unimaginable despair, while Aria is the story of a man who retreats into his dreams to escape the real world. While Aria ends on the protagonist’s self-reflection of all he has become, his implied mental state seems to be less than functional. Haddad has been candid that these albums were inspired by life events, and Keys to the Palace is now a reflection of how he sees the world in his current state. I think this context, and listening to the past two albums, not only enhances the experience of listening to Keys but is essential to grasping the full concept.

The word I’d use to describe this album is frolic, which is just as odd as it sounds for an album in the prog-death subgenre. Aria was incredibly unique with its use of the major scale riffing to conceptually convey fleeting happiness, but almost all of Keys is in major. From the first chugging notes of ‘In the Midst of May’, and even between Haddad’s vicious growls, there’s a conceptual optimism to the record that hasn’t been found on Dessiderium prior. Speaking of Haddad’s vocals, his cleans are much more forward this time around, having been purposefully drenched in reverb and murk on the last albums. He projects his triumphant cleans with the album’s first bit of explosive, sing-songy nature after its first blast beat. I’ll be completely honest and say some of the changes outright baffled me upon first listen. The black metal sections that made Shadow Burn and Aria special are all but eschewed, as well as the distinctly Opethian songwriting. Instead, Keys sounds distinctly like Yes as much as it does Wintersun in the way it flourishes, with every song firing at all cylinders and never stopping to take a breather.

This makes Keys an overwhelming first, second, and thirteenth listen. The atmospheric tricks and undeniably perfect pacing of Aria are what made the album special to me, but little did I know Keys is very intentional with its nature. The album, at its core, is about childhood whimsy. Alex Haddad, now a big adult with big adult responsibilities, reminisces on the times when the world seemed a little less scary. He—in this case, the narrator—meets his adult self, who shows him a vision of the future. The very last line of the album, “What have you done to me?”, is the child narrator responding in abject horror at the world he’s been shown. Keys to the Palace is not as overly joyous and frolicking as it first appears—it’s still a Dessiderium album, after all. However, Alex Haddad has had a cathartic moment, scattering dissonance within major scale riffing, symbolizing his union of fond childhood memories with facing his future head-on. Even the very first notes of the album are a dissonant cacophony of MIDI instruments, hinting of the messaging to come.

‘Pollen for the Bees’, quite possibly my favorite Dessiderium song to date, is an exemplary showing of Haddad’s sprawling songwriting. Instrumentally, it’s the heaviest and most grandiose on Keys, while also showcasing the perfect blending of black metal a la blog favorite, Hands of Despair. ‘Pollen for the Bees’ is a perfect midpoint following two songs that showcase Haddad at some of his most complex and challenging riffing, and a great example of dissonance in the major scale that’s all over the album. After practically breaking through the sound barrier with relentless drumming and riffs, ‘A Dream That Wants Me Dead’ is a welcome slower piece, as the narrative begins to reach its thematic climax. It and ‘Magenta’ serve as a calm before the storm, with the narrator desperately trying desperately to keep his childhood innocence intact. The latter only begins to ramp up towards the end, with an infectious lyrical refrain and trem-picked riff sending out the song in style. 

The sixteen minute epic title track is where this album should collapse under its own weight. Beginning with a slow, ascending and descending guitar backed by MIDI strings, the song evokes a similar feel to Aria’s ‘White Morning in a World She Knows’, appearing to start and stop at a moment’s notice, expertly building atmosphere over the lyricless first four minutes. The sing-song section nine minutes in should seem silly, yet it’s executed incredibly. Alex Haddad knows ending on an epic is a gamble, especially after such a long album, and ensures that each section is as memorable as it is unique. The shredding guitar solo that comes two minutes after should seem over-indulgent, but it’s done with grace and never overstays its welcome. The section that dominates the last three minutes sounds like an overly happy ‘One-Winged Angel’ homage, and I couldn’t think of anything better to end on, especially with regard to the final bit of juxtaposing lyricism. 

Keys to the Palace serves as a warning not to get lost in thoughts of hope and better times. It is the story of a boy shown the future and trying his very hardest to fight against what is to come, only to eventually succumb to the perils of adulthood, as we all do. While the narrator does not end up becoming a genocidal emperor, nor a man who is too far gone in his own dream world, we can only conclude that the experience will have a permanent effect on him. He’s forced to experience his own cathartic moment, realizing that he will grow up one day and become an imperfect adult. Haddad doesn’t ask the listener to stay in their own world, but to experience their own catharsis through discomfort. This is a different beast than Aria, and despite the same creator, they set out to do very different things and succeed. Keys to the Palace has cemented Haddad not just as someone who knows the Opeth formula, but as someone who has created his own. He looked back in time, to material written nearly ten years ago, and finally found the place for an overdue emotional release. His mind didn’t stay put, and he was confident enough that one day, this would find its place within his own expression. If the Key to his catharsis was looking backwards in time, and warning against such things in the album itself, then I hope he keeps looking to the horizon. 

Recommended tracks: Dover Hendrix, Pollen for the Bees, Keys to the Palace, Magenta
You may also like: An Abstract Illusion, Orgone, Hands of Despair, Epiphanie, Cormorant
Final verdict: 9/10

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

Label: Willowtip Records – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Dessiderium is:
– Alex Haddad (Guitar, bass, vocals, strings, MIDI)
– Brody Smith (drum programming)

The post Review: Dessiderium – Keys to the Palace appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Melodic death metal, symphonic metal, progressive metal (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Septicflesh, Orphaned Land, Fleshgod Apocalypse, Haggard
Review by: Francesco
Country: England, UK
Release date: 1 September 2024

Immaterial Eden is the debut release from Melehan, a solo project of UK-native Charles Phillip Withall. An incredibly ambitious first offering, Immaterial Eden blends influences from symphonic metal and melodic death metal with intricate musicianship and engaging compositional structure to create an immense sound. From ecclesiastical choirs and lonesome trombone, to reverberant timpani and haunting, rich piano, this album takes you on a journey through massive soundscapes. Glue it all together with tight riffing and furious drumming, and you have one of the most interesting releases of the year.

Withall’s musicianship can in no way be overstated. He is credited as performing everything on the album, and he competently navigates his way around glockenspiels, synthesizers, strings, horns, drums; you get the idea. The man’s some type of savant—like Rain Man, but for metal songwriting. Immaterial Eden has so many standout moments in its forty-seven minute runtime I can hardly remember them all – but some of my favourites are the trance synth lead in “The Cost of Being Alive” (an element which is sadly never reintroduced), the Italian canto in “The Dark Prince”, and the melancholy solo horn section in “The Giants’ Gaze, Pt. I”. 

The album flows from straight-forward melodic death metal sections, to flamenco-inspired classical guitar passages, to more symphonic metal crescendos and codas without ever breaking a stride – I’m reminded a lot of an Orphaned Land or Septicflesh with more of a western classical sensibility, maybe similar to but not as frenetic as Fleshgod Apocalypse. The compositions are riveting, and the symphony instruments add a layer of complexity and sound amazing – no terrible MIDI patches detected here. And the horns are played so well that one struggles to tell if it’s an expression controller or the real thing. I also commend the lyricism, which for the most part is thought-provoking and esoteric. Thematically very introspective, Immaterial Eden touches on despair and apathy in the human condition with rather cryptic prose, but sometimes delves into the more mythological or even theological, as in the Latin responsory “O vos omnes” quoted in “The Dark Prince”. 

Still, no great album is without fault. One of the qualms I had with Immaterial Eden was with the inclusion of an overabundance of melodrama when sometimes the clean vocals are allowed to take precedence. The clean singing (which reminds me somewhat of Borknagar and ex-Dimmu Borgir vocalist ICS Vortex¹) might be the weakest part of this album as some of the harmonies are pitchy to the point of being wildly discordant², and I wonder if for all his merit Withall wouldn’t benefit from someone else taking over the clean vocal duties. On a similar note, the intro to “The Cathedral in the Sand” breaks the flow of what is overall a very strongly paced album with solo reverberant piano and lamenting vocals singing about haunted cemeteries of the mind and shrivelled leaves… Maybe it’s just me who doesn’t like emotional ballads in his death metal, but I always found myself skipping to the heavy part. And then there’s the inaudible bass playing. Not to say that this is an album where the bass is meant to shine, but it does become kind of a trope at this point. 

In spite of that, Immaterial Eden is a super impressive one-man endeavour, and I think I would struggle to find other solo projects of this caliber. The blending of genres is expertly accomplished in a way that seems almost effortless. I would love to know if our man Withall has a background in music because this is such an impeccably well put-together work that juggles so many moving parts it’s like a circus act. This album runs better than my city’s transit system, voted Best Transit System in North America in 2017³. A worthwhile listen for any lover of progressive metal and melodic death or symphonic metal. 

Recommended tracks: “The Cost of Being Alive”, “The Dark Prince”, “The Giants Gaze, Pt. II”
You may also like: Godiva, Sakis Tollis, Mencea
Final verdict: 9/10

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

Label: Independent / Unsigned

band in question is:
– Charles Phillip Withall (everything)

1. Can’t stand him ︎
2. See the 1:51 mark of “The Product of the Masterflesh” ︎
3. Which was a complete farce but this IS a great album ︎

The post Missed Album Review: Melehan – Immaterial Eden appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Genres: symphonic brutal death metal (harsh vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Nile, Inferi, Hate Eternal, Gorguts
Country: Italy
Release date: 9 February 2024

It’s not every day that I come upon debut releases with features from both Luc Lemay and Karl Sanders of Gorguts and Nile fame, respectively. When I saw those names listed as features, I was immediately intrigued, but when I heard the alluring solo piano that begins this album, I was hooked and chose to pick it up for review. Thankfully, that piano continues to weave silky and snappy melodies throughout the album’s runtime, and combined with the incessant midi choir, it pushes Spiritual Deception’s standard brutal death metal fare replete with endless blast beats and blistering, difficult-to-discern riffage towards something more melodic and progressive, although summed up by the band as simply “symphonic.”

For most listeners, it will be the melodic content of this album that is the most immediately accessible, remaining so throughout repeated listens. The aforementioned piano is nigh ever-present creating eerie atmosphere and sneaking into key moments to juxtapose heavy-handed rhythmicity with tinkling subtlety. It also provides some levity to the dirge of buzzing guitars that–on par for this style of brutal death metal–rarely venture much higher than the fifth fret save for during solos, which actually provide some notable melodic content themselves. Always appropriately techy, nearly every solo finds it in its conscience to lean off the gas for at least a moment to provide an earworm or two, making each that much more engaging; the solos of “Thousand Lives Within” and “The Days of Sleep” particularly still rattle around in my head. This strong attention to melody even extends to interlude “The Night Opens” which sees the successful introduction of acoustic guitar and cello to the established formula of buzzy chugs and trems and ceaseless blast beats, making this interlude one of the better tracks on Semitae Mentis even if only as a brief reprieve from its more mundane and monotonous elements.

And, unfortunately, those elements are rather common. The guitar tone leaves a lot to be desired with its muddy buzz that leaves all lower ranged riffs–which comprise the vast majority–harmonically incomprehensible. The tone does emphasize the rhythm of the riffs however, but even that element isn’t very impressive, instead content to tread the well worn paths of bands like Hate Eternal and Nile. The attitude around the guitar tone extends into the general production leaving the whole thing generally unpleasant to listen to–although not impossible to get used to–since it can be difficult to pick out the genuinely good bits from the muck that surrounds them, leaving the whole thing sounding amateurish. Already, I’ve touched on the monotony of the midi choir which finds its way into every song, always panned subtly to the left and never providing more than a mere air of symphonicism, something already fulfilled by other instruments. It’s as though the choral elements were simply tacked on just to earn that “symphonic” moniker, and the album suffers for it. If the time spent on the choir had instead been spent refining the guitar tones and on a better mix/master, you’d likely be reading a very different review.

Semitae Mentis reaches some stellar highs thanks to its clever introduction of piano to brutal death metal in a manner that doesn’t feel tacked on as much as it feels integral, but those highs are built upon a shaky foundation that ultimately sees the album crumbling as it stretches into its back half, where each song feels like a rehash of something heard prior; not even the nine-minute closer “…To the Coldest Decline” with its recalled motifs and epic scope could draw me back in. I must commend Spiritual Deception for what they achieved with Semitae Mentis as it is certainly a strong proof of concept for what I would want to hear on subsequent releases if they are to come albeit with much improved production and a just as strong emphasis on the melodic elements.

Recommended tracks: Beyond Perception and Matter, The I Swells…, …To the Coldest Decline
You may also like: Equipoise, Stortregn, Resin Tomb
Final verdict: 6.5/10

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

Label: Amputated Vein Records – Bandcamp | Facebook

Spiritual Deception is:
– Mirko Frontini (vocals, guitars)
– Manuel Del Giudice (drums)
– Riccardo Maccarana (guitars)
– Billy Repalam (bass)

The post Review: Spiritual Deception – Semitae Mentis appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Symphonic Death Metal, Progressive Death Metal (Harsh vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Fleshgod Apocalypse, Septicflesh
Country: Greece
Review by: Christopher
Release date: 16 February, 2024

You might think that the reviewer perk of receiving advanced copies of albums is a joy with no drawbacks, but February 2024—an impressively strong release month—has been so boring for reviewing because I heard and wrote about everything I wanted to for this month in January. As everyone picks up the new Kyros or Eternal Storm or even Ihsahn, I’m sitting here weeks ahead, the novelty already worn away. Yes, this is an incredibly privileged whine, but it’s important context; waiting for new releases to grab me, mediocrity reared its head at every turn, until one album finally managed to break the February curse. 

Working in the vein of groups like Fleshgod Apocalypse and fellow Greeks Septicflesh, Thy Shining Curse conjure exactly the sonic chaos you’d expect: blistering metal riffs, breathless harsh vocals and thundering drumwork beneath grandiloquent symphonic accompaniment—pianos shred, strings urge haste, rapturous brass notes pierce through, and Carl Orff-esque choirs portend breathlessly. Theurgia describes a series of magical rites rooted in Neoplatonism, aimed at communing with superior beings and, ultimately, The One.

Vocalist Leonidas Diamantopolous delivers the expected harsh vocal delivery, while guitarist Leonidas Diamanotopolous shreds away with some impressive solos and sturdy riffs, all the while drummer Leonidas Diaman—huh. Bear with me a moment… This is all one guy?! Holy shit! Yes, Thy Shining Curse is a one-man-band effort, Diamantopolous handles everything besides a couple of vocal and guitar contributions from guests. One-man-bands often have particular strengths that come at the expense of other facets of musicianship depending on their musical background—after all, a guitarist-by-training can be forgiven for being guitar-forward in their output. But Theurgia’s has an unexpectedly strong compositional focus, every instrument and element has equal weighting and an effortless sense of interplay. 

Symphonic death metal, however, is a well established genre at this point, and one has to break the mould a little to stand out. In this regard, Diamantopolous isn’t exactly a great innovator, but Theurgia nevertheless demonstrates some unique ideas: the chaotic sax solo over an orchestral break on “Abyssaoth” works beautifully, the prominent palm muting in the djenty main riffs of “Acephale” proves an unexpectedly successful textural choice, the Acropolyptic (stop booing me) opera chorus over a sick synth riff on “Aesahaettr” makes for a gorgeous melodic foil to the relentless riffage, and “Melmoth” opts for some more expressive and complex percussive choices in the opening and verses. 

There are no glaring issues here, though there’s a little roughness around the edges—the drum mix sounds a little wet but it’s only noticeable when the layers are stripped back, and the orchestral work can sound a little too synthetic in some moments, but mostly it’s great. The last three tracks feature moments of spoken word which work to greater and lesser degrees. The sample on “Lenore” just feels a bit cliched no matter how epic the music is, the spoken word performance on “Heptacletus” has a little more drive in it, but it’s the whispered vocals on “Melmoth” that work best, interwoven into a restrained orchestral break while portentous choir leads us into what might well be the best guitar solo of the record.

As debuts go, Theurgia is deeply impressive, and all the more so when you know that just one man is behind it all. Diamantopolous has delivered a work of symphonic death metal that goes toe to toe with the genre’s leading lights and comes out unscathed. As a mission statement, Thy Shining Curse have delivered a doozy, and there’s great potential for them to become a force to be reckoned with in the symphonic death pantheon… or should that be Parthenon?

Recommended tracks: Abyssaoth, Aesahaettr, Melmoth
You may also like: Lamentari, Aeternam
Final verdict: 7/10

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

Label: ViciSolum Records – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Thy Shining Curse is:
– Leonidas Diamantopolous (everything)

The post Review: Thy Shining Curse – Theurgia appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Progressive/Technical Death Metal (harsh vocals)
Recommended for fans of: The Faceless, Obscura
Review by: Zach
Country: Australia
Release date: 10 November, 2023

The Ritual Aura were a band that, in my opinion, never quite got it. Debut Laniakea was a short, sweet, techy affair that left me hopeful for their future career, and Taether was the nearly 80-minute monster that dashed those hopes. Both albums featured some insane guitar work by L. Dalek, the brains behind the band, but the structure and pacing held them back. 2019’s Velothi saw them heading in a much proggier, tighter direction, but its all too brief runtime and general lack of cohesion still made me a bit sour.

I was excited for Heresiarch, but I didn’t expect it to blow me away. Now, with a completely new lineup aside from Dalek and a plethora of guests, I can safely say The Ritual Aura have finally got it. I’ve been rooting for these boys for so long now, because they were always on the cusp of greatness; finally, they present an album worthy of their insane talents.

And what insane talent they have. Dalek’s riffs are now intermingled with Brandon J. Iacovella’s (Tomarum, Proliferation, Lunar Chamber), a recent entry into my guitar idol hall-of-fame. Fretless bass dances and swirls around everything from neoclassical shredding to riffs that remind me more of Vildhjarta than tech-death. Plaguebringer’s Dario Irvine screeches lyrics probably inspired by anime or video games and makes them sound like the shadow of death rolling over the hills of a medieval battlefield. The Ritual Aura have always been a bunch of fuckin’ nerds, and they have seemed to finally work that into their music well. 

However, the album has a few unexpected tricks up its sleeve that I wasn’t ready for. Clearly, Dalek’s learned a ton about how to pace an album over the years, and that’s a major reason why this is a step above the previous releases. With a fourteen- and fifteen-minute song taking up the majority of Heresiarch’s runtime, the album still feels much shorter than it actually is. The introduction of more classical sections is a welcome change to break up the onslaught of tech-death this album throws at you.

In a strange twist of fate, The Ritual Aura has almost evolved into what I can only describe as a dark fantasy story in aural form. The gloomy, gothic atmosphere that ‘Hope’s Light’ starts this album with never goes away. So many of the slower, softer sections sound like the soundtrack of early Castlevania and Zelda games, with ‘The New Plague’ into ‘Unholy Nadir’ highlighting The Ritual Aura’s newfound abilities. Like Dessiderium, these boys have clearly studied the art of the JRPG soundtrack and implemented that into their songwriting.

On top of it all, they’ve somehow managed to break the cliche that is sax in tech death. There are only two sax moments on the album, and they both took me by surprise as a welcome addition. Despite having basically a whole orchestra of guest musicians all playing their wacky instruments that don’t naturally belong in tech-death, all of it folds seamlessly into the music. Ryan Cho’s violin deserves special mention, as unlike peers Ne Obliviscaris and Massen, it appears rarely and adds to that gothic, From Software-esque atmosphere that persists throughout Heresiarch.

As much as I am singing the praises of this work, it’s not a perfect album. The production still feels a little thin, and Szymon Mikosz’s fretless bass gets buried underneath the wall of guitars, especially when they start shredding at four thousand BPM. Some of the transitions do feel a little wonky, but I can easily write that off with how interesting the album keeps things.

The Ritual Aura have continued experimenting and expanding with their sound when most bands would just stay stagnant. Finally, with the amount of hard work they’ve put in between Velothi and now, they’ve gotten to reap the benefits of creating something great. Heresiarch’s not a perfect album by any means, but I feel that they’ve finally undergone the anime training arc, and come out with some major character development.

Recommended tracks: Heresiarch suite, The New Plague, Devourment Knell
You may also like: Aethereus, Arkaik, Dessiderium, Stortregn
Final verdict: 8/10

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

Label: The Artisan Era – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

The Ritual Aura is:
– L. Dalek (guitars, piano, Ebow, songwriting, lyrics)
– Brandon J. Iacovella (guitars, vocals, songwriting)
– Szymon Milosz (bass)

– KC Brand (drums)

– Dario Irvine (vocals)

The post Review: The Ritual Aura – Heresirach appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Progressive Metal, Symphonic Death Metal (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Psycroptic, Slugdge
Review by: Cooper
Country: Florida, United States
Release date: 4 November, 2022

Featuring mythical artwork, a dizzying space opera concept, and a symphonic infused progressive death metal sound, Earth Base One, the debut release from the Florida-based Tiwanaku, is an album that – at least on paper – I should love. Unfortunately, for every positive that Tiwanaku incorporates into this album, countless negatives slip in as well.

Earth Base One begins in stride with “Visitor from Titan,” a six minute song that demonstrates everything that Tiwanaku is able to do well. Riffs change up on a dime in a way that at first feels disorienting but becomes satisfying as the song repeats its strophic structure. Synthesized choir and strings provide a strong foundation and bring a sense of melody to the slightly monotonous vocals, and in typical death metal fashion, the drums blast away, never drawing much attention at all, be it good or bad. The standout element of “Visitor from Titan” is undoubtedly the lead guitar work. By shrugging off the trend of perfectly compressed, clipped, and quantized lead work that is all too often employed in the genre, Tiwanaku’s lead guitar provides a real sense of grit that recalls death metal of the nineties more than it does anything released in the past fifteen years.

The second track, “Ghost War,” follows suit, making use of many of the same stylistic choices off “Visitor from Titan.” Here, though, they begin to seem less like intentionally made songwriting choices and more like symptoms of a lack of ideas. For instance, riffs and song segments still transition between another in a disorienting manner, but that disorientation never pays off as it did in the album’s opener. Once again, the lead guitar shredding is fun and engaging, but it is now forced to compete with the other instruments in order to even be heard thanks to muddy production. Despite all its missteps, “Ghost War” still lands as one of the better tracks off of Earth Base One, a dark omen of what’s to come.

“Swarm” is the third track from Earth Base One, but you certainly wouldn’t have known that had you listened to it. In fact, when I first heard “Swarm,” I thought that my music player had somehow begun shuffling and that I was now listening to a completely different band. Nearly every aspect of the song’s sound – production, riffing style, and vocals – is completely different from the previous tracks, and these changes are not for the better. Where “Visitor from Titan” employed a production style that, while certainly not amazing, served the song with its grittiness, “Swarm” sounds like it was taken straight from a demo recording. At one point, I swear I can even hear where an audio file was copied and pasted into the DAW during production. For an album that was already on my bad side, this became a killing blow to my enjoyment, and I became much more nitpicky about the entire album.

For instance, “Nightmare Hell” would have been decent if they had cut down the nearly three minutes of ambience to thirty seconds and if they had recorded to a metronome. “Closed Minds” is probably the best song on the album thanks to its groovy synth use, but it squanders much of my enjoyment thanks to a double tracked solo that ends up just sounding out of tune and an ending that I can only describe as lazy. “Vision Abducted” is also one of the better tracks on this album, but is really just a collection of riffs as opposed to a song. Whenever Earth Base One offers something of promise, it never lasts more than a moment and whatever follows seems even worse by comparison.

The final track, depending on which music service you are listening on, is a piano solo. “Falling Stars” is a genuinely interesting and engaging piece of music, but I can’t help but see it as anything other than perplexing. Why would Tiwanaku choose to include a piano solo with showmanship that overshadows anything that happened on the album previously? Ultimately, it leaves me unsatisfied. Even worse, if you were listening on Bandcamp, there is still one more song, “Interdimensional.” I do not want to spoil the genre change that occurs with this song, so I find myself in a conundrum. I recommend you listen to this album on Bandcamp if only to experience the sheer comedy that is “Interdimensional” after the album that precedes it. Despite the shocking nature of the album’s true closer, I only resent the album more because I now find myself actually recommending this atrocity, even if it is only as comedic relief.

Recommended tracks: Visitor From Titan, Closed Minds
You may also like: Dvota, Deathbringer
Final verdict: 4/10

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

Label: Unorthodox Emanations of Avantgarde Music – Bandcamp | Website | Facebook

Tiwanaku is:
– Ed Mowery (vocals, guitars)
– Sean Hairy Valentine (lead guitars)
– Ian Spencer (bass)
– Gabriel Lewandowski (drums)
– Ryan ONeill (keyboard)

The post Missed Album Review: Tiwanaku – Earth Base One appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Symphonic Death metal (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Septicflesh, Fleshgod Apocalypse, Haggard
Review by: Zach
Country: Switzerland
Release date: 16 September, 2022

I like to classify the fans of metal into two subcategories. There are probably way more, but for the sake of brevity, I’m going to talk about just two. Those who say symphonic metal sucks, and those who treat it like any other subgenre.. When I first got into metal, there seemed to be this prevailing opinion that anything symphonic was to be avoided like the plague; but I quickly figured out this was an ass-backwards way of saying, “I don’t like power metal”, so I’ll re-name this first subcategory “the cowards”.

Wilderun, Aquilus, Septicflesh, Fleshgod, Haggard, Gorgon, Inferi, the list of amazing symphonic bands is fucking endless. I’m talking bands that don’t use strings as a backdrop to hide lame riffs, but bands that push theatricality and experiment with a symphony that takes turns driving the song rather than letting the guitars do the work. How can anyone say all symphonic metal sucks when songs like Moonsorrow exist? So, I’ll gladly take up any symphonic band that I can, and I’ve found some real gems from the debut works of emerging bands. Surely, Kerberos has been set up for success from the guy who gives everything like this an 8 and up?

Hoo boy, I could feel it with that first track. The way it builds into swaying strings and woodwinds with that slow snare roll. The guitars crash in with such raw fury and then…. Well, then comes the clean vocals. My fellow Subway conductor Christopher said the exact same thing when he slid this across my desk. “I don’t know what to make of this”, was his exact wording, which coincidentally, were my thoughts too for the first few listens. But turning a web of random thoughts into a cohesive review is all a part of my job.

Let’s start with the most glaring flaw first. Ai-lan Metzger, the band’s female clean vocalist, has a fine voice on her own, but the way she just stumbles into the first track after the buildup ruins all momentum and made me scratch my head. To me, her performance is trying to balance Tarja Turunen’s operatic grace and Brittney Slayes’s aggression and power. Which is quite the undertaking on its own, considering the two women listed above aren’t even in the same league as most vocalists. Metzger sounds like she’s belting every single note out and straining to the very top of her range, leading so many moments to fall flat within the first song alone.

Clean vocals aside, Epigone this is not. This may have been innovative 20 years ago, but now its probably going to be lost amongst the many, many, many symphonic albums that come out every year. The reason Septicflesh can still find new ways to impress nearly 15 years after Communion is they keep innovating. Wilderun keeps experimenting and Aquilus is basically writing an entire film score. To stand out as a symphonic album in 2022, you need to do something beyond adding strings to your death metal. It’s the same problem I spoke about in my Humaniac review.

However, I can’t say I’m going to be too harsh on Kerberos. After all, this is their very first full-length and they still have plenty of time to grow as a band. But their first bit of work to iron out, even before the vocals are concerned, is the pacing. This album could be a whole 10 minutes shorter and become more replayable and enjoyable to listen to in the process. There’s no reason ‘Midsummernight’s Scream’, hilarious pun aside, needs to be 10 minutes long. In fact, most of the songs could be about 2-3 minutes shorter and cut nothing out of the 52-minute run time. I’d rather have a band keep me asking for more than overstaying their welcome. There’s just too much filler symphonies and riffs that go absolutely nowhere.

Felicien Burkard is clearly a competent guitar player and composer, as he wrote all but one of the tracks, but symphonic metal is only as strong as the riffs that come with it. Fleshgod Apocalypse have a million crazy riffs that they pull out every song, yet here it just seems like the same variations of the same three or four riffs changed up. I decided to look up Burkard’s other band, Uncaved, a clearly Death inspired group with some fairly solid riffs. If Burkard took the Chuck influence and stuck it in Kerberos, I feel that we’d be seeing a very different (but extremely cool) band on our hands.

I don’t know why I expected more from this band, but I leave this review a little disappointed. There’s some songwriting talent here, enough to make and record a whole album with an actual choir, but there’s nothing that stuck with me after so many listens. I want nothing but success for Kerberos in the future, but I feel like they have a long way to go before making something that’ll wow me. Still, I don’t want them to be discouraged by this. If anything, I want them to come back in a few years and blow me the hell away.

Recommended tracks: Resurrection of the Sun, One-Dimensional Sight
You may also like: Wilderun, Sentire
Final verdict: 5/10

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

Label: Independent

Kerberos is:
– Felicien Burkard (Guitars, bass, vocals)
– Nicolas Kaser (Drums)
– Ai-lan Metzger (Vocals)
– member 4 (drums)
– member 5 (keyboard)

The post Review: Kerberos – Of Mayhem and Dismay appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: progressive metal, symphonic death metal (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Fleshgod Apocalypse, Scar Symmetry, Children of Bodom
Review by: Andrew
Country: Israel
Release date: 4 January 2020

[EDITOR’S NOTE: This review was originally published in the January 2020 Part 1 issue of The Progressive Subway.]

Not much information is available about Future Indefinite. They are a progressive death metal band from Haifa, Israel and seem to only have two members. They have one EP from 2012 in addition to their debut album, Oculus. They don’t really seem to have an online presence at all either. So I’m going into this knowing basically nothing. Anyway, let’s get started. 

At over an hour long and with 17 tracks, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Oculus opens with “Chapter I: Entropy”, an orchestral overture that sets the scene for the next hour of music as well as introducing the album’s storyline. I’ll get back to the story in a bit – for now I want to focus on the music. The next track, “Impact”, is a spoken word piece in the style of a radio broadcast, meant to further introduce the plot and build suspense for what’s to come. If you were wondering when the metal would kick in, “Mayday” immediately answers that question with heavy-hitting harsh vocals over some chunky riffing. Radio broadcasts and orchestral interludes are scattered throughout the album, providing exposition and plot progression. “Mayday” is a perfect foreshadow of the rest of the album – brutal screams, soft cleans, and everything from blast beats to slow, clean guitar –  it’s a true potpourri of sounds that come together excellently. 

The next couple of tracks follow this trend, with more radio broadcasts and orchestral interludes interspersed throughout. The centerpiece of the album is track 9, “Virres’val.” Coming in at over 11 minutes long, this behemoth demonstrates everything Future Indefinite is capable of. However, some of the riffs start to blend together which hinders the sense of progression throughout the song. This is a repeated issue in Oculus (as well as a lot of melodic death metal in general) which detracts from the listening experience slightly. Despite this lack of uniqueness among riffs, the symphonic backing tracks and ripping guitar solos provide a sense of separation that the riffs themselves fail to provide. 

“Taste of Freedom” is the last true metal song on the album – the remaining four songs are instrumental orchestral pieces to close it out. I was disappointed that there was no true closer – the album ends in a very unsatisfactory fashion. “Taste of Freedom” is great for what it is though. Earlier, I said I’d get back to the story. If you haven’t guessed by now, this is a concept album through-and-through. From what I have been able to surmise, (no lyrics are available online) the story revolves around a group of comets impacting the Earth, causing what remains of humanity to leave the planet on a spaceship called The Valkyrie. There is then an uprising on the ship causing a group to take over and enslave the remaining humans. The now-enslaved people then rise up against their rulers and take back their freedom. Don’t quote me on this because it might be completely wrong. I think the story is really unique and the music is well-suited to tell it.

Despite its shortcomings, Oculus is a fantastic symphonic progressive death metal album and I thoroughly enjoyed listening to it for this review. I wish more information on Future Indefinite was available so I could know more about what I am listening to. Oculus is a very solid debut album and it’s clear that a ton of work has been put into it by the band. Go listen to it. 

Recommended tracks: Fall of the Valkyrie, Virres’val, Symbiosis
You may also like: Warforged, Winterhorde
Final verdict: 8/10

Related links: Spotify | Facebook | Metal-Archives page

Label: Independent

Future Indefinite is:
– Samond Doe (clean vocals, lead guitars)
– Matt Fox (rhythm guitars)

With maybe also:
– Daniel White (harsh vocals, bass)
– Matthew Feldman (drums)

The post Review: Future Indefinite – Oculus appeared first on The Progressive Subway.