Style: Progressive metal, alternative metal (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Tool, Karnivool, Soen (pre-Lotus), Leprous
Country: France
Release date: 21 June 2025

I first discovered Mantra by way of a review on this very blog covering Medium, their 2019 EP conceived around a gimmick of releasing two separate tracks which could be overlaid on top of each other to create the “true” full song. It should be no surprise that Mantra might return to a highly conceptual approach for their latest album Celestial. One “season” of this album has been released on each equinox or solstice starting last fall, and now that we’ve passed the summer solstice to complete the cycle, the four parts can finally be brought together for the full experience. I initially intended to review Celestial last fall after the project was announced and the first EP released, but it quickly became clear that trying to develop an analysis based on what was essentially an introduction would be a flawed approach. With the benefit of greater context, the opening tracks from Fall still feel like mostly setup, but now provide a proper introduction to a broader work instead of a ramp leading directly over the edge of a sheer cliff.

As a first impression of Mantra, Medium has always left me feeling a bit, well, medium—not due to any great flaws in the music itself, but because of how little its structural gimmick enhances the listening experience. Each track individually, as well as the final combination, just sounds like a normal (and generally pretty good) song; it doesn’t feel like either of the component parts are missing anything critical, but by the same token, putting them back together doesn’t offer any great sense of completion. With that in mind, Celestial faces a similar test: was it worth the song and dance around its staggered release, and do the chopped-up pieces join together in a way that feels more meaningful than just producing any old album themed around the four seasons? Or will the disjointed scheduling lead to an equally disjointed listening experience when all is told?

Mantra’s musical aesthetic as a whole is not the most original, nor generally the most flashy or virtuosically impressive. Their success depends heavily on maintaining a rich mix of alternative elements, with hefty bass, dark-roasted malt guitars, and edgy half-growled vocals that only rarely break completely into harsh tones. Medium’s greatest shortcoming was undercutting that core richness by dividing one strong track into two weaker ones. Although Celestial’s limitations are less inherent to its release structure, it seems its development may have focused more on each section’s role within the turn of the seasons rather than polishing each track to be the best it could be. Whatever the story of Celestial’s conception, though, the result is far from a failure. The opening Fall sands down some of the metal edges in favor of a heavy progressive rock hybrid that could be compared to Leprous’s most recent works or this year’s outing from Derev, but the second quarter Winter unfolds an icy shroud, hearkening back to Mantra’s more familiar styles with omnipresent bass and choppy, deliberately off-balance rhythms embedded in heady time signatures.

Mantra apply their penchant for grandeur towards building cathedral-worthy scenes filled with epic choral guest vocals from Juliette and Matthis Lemonnier, like the section just past the midpoint of Winter’s second track “Vessel” or the climactic final moments of the monolithic Spring. Celestial’s lyrics hint at grand extraterrestrial topics of apocalypses and dying suns, cosmic purpose granted to a chosen savior, and the folly and failure of one imagining a divine destiny that was never there. Despite the effort put into the seasonal release cadence, the four seasons don’t feature heavily as lyrical or stylistic themes, aside from the general connection between seasons and the sun; the focus lands instead on the deific glory of stars and the spiritual feelings they inspire. Widespread piano presence and the usage of particularly chime-like effects from both guitar and keyboard echo earthly religious musical traditions as well as evoke a more natural “music of the spheres” that might lend itself to pagan worship.

The biggest thing missing from Celestial is a sort of “wow” moment, a grand climax to make the listener sit up in awe. Their past works have accomplished this with satisfying, drawn-out development, which piles up more and more elements until the music is full to bursting. Celestial’s triumphant moments during the Winter and Spring seasons arrive too early in the tracklist and don’t quite reach the required heights, but Mantra’s overall compositions are strong nonetheless, providing an abundance of smaller peaks throughout to help keep the energy high.

Mantra remain single-minded in their goal to push the boundaries of musical composition through experiments in unconventional release formats. It’s unfortunate that these efforts don’t add a ton to the music itself; the base talent and quality of their compositions provide a strong starting point, but their final productions struggle to rise above that level and achieve true excellence. Mantra continue to deliver moody, untamed rhythms with a dark, satisfyingly crunchy toasted edge. With strong production and clever ideas behind the music, there’s plenty to recommend Celestial, even if the band’s full machinations haven’t quite come to fruition. I just wouldn’t advise waiting nine months to collect all the pieces.

Recommended tracks: Winter I – Isolation, Winter II – Vessel, Spring – Home, Summer I – Transcendence
You may also like: Mother of Millions, Diagonal Path, Riviẽre, In the Silence, Traverser
Final verdict: 7/10

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

Label: Vlad Productions – Bandcamp | Website | Facebook

Mantra is:
– Gabriel Junod (percussion)
– Pierre Junod (vocals)
– Arthur Lauth (bass, piano)
– Simon Saint-Georges (guitars, electric oud)
With guests:
– Juliette Lemonnier (additional vocals)
– Matthis Lemonnier (additional vocals)
– Niqolah Seeva (oud)

The post Review: Mantra – Celestial appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: progressive metal (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Ayreon, Dream Theater, Circus Maximus, The Dear Hunter (conceptually if not musically)
Country: Spain
Release date: 23 May 2025

It’s a great tragedy for artists everywhere and in every medium that passion is not sufficient for success. Passion can carry a creator through the travails of completing their work and releasing it to the public, but it can never guarantee that the end product will be of high quality, nor that it will receive the attention it deserves from the target audience. SerapiS Project have invested their passions mainly in the Patreon model for funding and distributing their creative efforts, offering a persistent fantasy universe with a continuous narrative. Their previous full-length album Palingenesis laid the foundation for this storytelling effort, establishing primary characters and motivations, mainly drawing on historical and mythological figures relating to the underworld, from the titular Serapis to Hades and even the Egyptian Queen Nefertiti. Side Stories continues in the same world, instead diving deeper into the characters’ backgrounds through a set of (you guessed it) side stories. I have a lot of respect for the ambition of a project like this; large-scale storytelling through music remains an underexplored space, with few artists other than Ayreon or The Dear Hunter willing to commit to such an effort, and the few who do rarely do a good job of it. As you might have inferred, SerapiS Project don’t seem to be any exception to the latter.

There can be little doubt that the members of SerapiS Project have placed a tremendous amount of emotional investment in their shared creative project, but little of that passion shows through in the qualities of the music itself. The compositions are formulaic and dull, the performances primarily stilted and unemotional—ostensibly progressive metal, but only of the most generic kind, with no particular depth in their songwriting and the smallest possible amount of lip service paid to the hallmarks of the genre. Songs change tempos and time signatures not so much because of any artistic purpose for doing so, but because that’s what happens in progressive metal songs. Often these changes feel sudden and jarring, such as around the 3:25 mark of the closing track “Order and Justice.” Even the more gradual transitions, such as in “The Gravest Mistake,” don’t add meaningful intrigue or complexity, they just serve as transitions between parts that sound slightly different for the sake of being different.

The Bandcamp page for SerapiS Project describes the band’s sound thus: “Swinging between minimalist, acoustic, clean vocal passages and powerful heavy riffs with harsh vocals.” It’s difficult to agree though; acoustic elements mostly make their appearance in minor openings and interludes rather than featuring as a main component of the band’s sound, and “minimalist” is one of the last words I would choose to describe Side Stories given how many of its arrangements consist of arbitrarily layering different parts on top of each other with little artistic intent. Admittedly, the soft acoustic guitar sections might be the strongest, as they accept the limitations of the format and don’t overreach the capabilities of the instrument or musician, instead embracing simple, gentle compositions which highlight the natural beauty of the instrument. However, being such a small, non-integral part of the album as a whole, these brief asides can’t do much to salvage a positive impression.

In numerous ways, this release seems to be an afterthought for SerapiS Project.¹ For better or for worse, that doesn’t seem to have significantly improved or hindered the quality of the music itself; Side Stories is just as unfocused in its structure as its predecessor. When SerapiS Project are able to keep attention on a mere one or two musical elements, such as during the atmospheric, acoustic segments or when the guitars are given free rein to play a flashy riff or two backed by simple drum licks, it’s easier to see the vision for what this album should sound like given capable performances. The main flaw which undercuts that vision is in the cohesion of all the pieces put together, which tend to blur and melt into an indistinct blob the more elements are piled on top. While the opening of “The Fury of the Storm” sounds fairly impressive with fast guitar arpeggios, the title track has those same musicians struggling to maintain a tight tempo when they try to offer a quick fill between repetitions of the melody in the closing verse, folding into a muddy mess instead.

Digging into the peripheral content they’ve released, such as YouTube Q&A sessions with fans and patrons, it’s clear that SerapiS Project carry a deep passion for the music they create and the story they’re telling through it. The band members obviously relate emotionally to the characters they’re depicting and the narrative themes of ascension and revenge, and most of all they want to share those treasures with a wider fan base. However, passion itself is not enough to write and produce a good album. If Side Stories were being performed live at the far end of a crowded bar on a random week night, I would enjoy the evening’s entertainment and generally be pretty impressed at the effort required to produce an entire original album. Given that it’s been released in full for an online audience, with accompanying bonus content to entice prospective patrons to support the band financially, I have more concerns. It’s 2025, and the internet is already filled with more music than anyone could ever hope to listen to. If you want to make music with your friends and band-mates for the fun of it or as an outlet for creative expression, great; if you want people to give you money for it, you should probably make sure it actually sounds good.

Recommended tracks: Emptiness, The Fury of the Storm if you stop listening after the first minute
You may also like: DGM, Hemina, Master Sword, Daydream XI, Azure (for the storytelling)
Final verdict: 3/10

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

Label: Independent

SerapiS Project is:
– Joaco Luis (guitars, backing vocals)
– Kristina Vega (vocals)
– Agus Milton (drums)
– Lucas Luis (bass)
– Sergi Martínez (guitars)

1. The album wasn’t available on major streaming platforms until roughly a week after its official release date, and at time of writing, it still isn’t available on Bandcamp except as a pre-order. Despite the band uploading numerous videos to their YouTube channel so far this year, I can find only a handful that pertain directly to Side Stories, including the announcement for its release. The band members seem more interested in the creative act of telling a story through music, and their YouTube channel offers a wealth of background detail and behind-the-scenes content for the project’s core narrative. This approach doesn’t cultivate the audience’s musical entertainment as well compared to releasing their albums through more traditional means and putting more effort into improving as musicians and songwriters. Even since the release of Side Stories, their demo and live-recording content continues to feature mainly tracks from Palingenesis. ︎

The post Review: SerapiS Project – Side Stories appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: heavy progressive rock, post-rock (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Riverside, Lunatic Soul, Porcupine Tree, Airbag
Country: Poland
Release date: 13 April 2025

Sensory experiences hold tremendous power to recall memories from our past. Every spring, the first time I catch the scent of early blooming flowers in the warming air through an open window, I’m transported back to middle school and all the time I spent playing Final Fantasy X on a tiny CRT TV in the basement with the door left open for fresh air. Similarly, certain albums—and even whole styles of music—remain permanently associated with the state my life was in when I first heard them. Riverside’s music continually calls me back to my time in late high school, discovering as much Dream Theater-adjacent music as I could through free streaming on Pandora; so strong is the connection that any similarly melancholy heavy progressive rock puts me in much the same mood. Enter SubLunar, another Polish band with an equivalent penchant for sadness, putting forth their sophomore album, A Random Moment of Stillness, for our consideration.

It feels reductive to focus too closely on comparisons between distinct artists, but it’s actively difficult to discuss SubLunar without mentioning Riverside as well. At times, singer Łukasz Dumara sounds so similar to Mariusz Duda (Riverside, Lunatic Soul) that, on my first listen, I had to double-check SubLunar’s lineup to make sure Duda hadn’t secretly started up another side project. Beyond the vocal tone and delivery, the overall style and instrumentation throughout A Random Moment of Stillness is incredibly reminiscent of Riverside’s Memories in My Head era in particular.

Featuring strong bass and soft guitars, but with a lighter presence of keyboards, SubLunar have taken the dark, moody syrup that flavored Riverside albums of old (yes, I know, Memories was “only” released fourteen-ish years ago) and freshly mixed it for an updated interpretation. Although some barbed, distorted edges remain, A Random Moment shies away from neighboring prog metal influences while at the same time developing a cozy infusion of post-rock to further mellow out the atmosphere. SubLunar’s soft ensemble settles the listener into a gentle melancholy mood, perhaps depressed at the cruel emptiness of the world around them, but at least comforted and feeling just a little less alone since they have this beautiful music to appreciate in their solitude.

Supporting the musical mood, A Random Moment of Stillness presents a textual theme centering around contrast and self-contradiction as well as an existential sense of impermanence. Paradoxical phrases pepper the lyrics, expressing a fundamental impossibility in reconciling life’s pains and pleasures. Other sections create a split perspective, describing two slightly different points of view with successive lines that build tension in their opposition. “Falling Upwards” lays the groundwork with its oxymoronic title while clashing lyrical phrases like “We are the ones to stay / We are the ones to go” and “Apart / As a whole” build a sense of unstable reality where no single truth can be established. More than mere contradiction, though, A Random Moment of Stillness establishes a feeling of ephemerality, that our lifetimes and daily lives flash by with little lasting impact. The cleverly-anagrammed closing track “A Sun Blur” laments “Yesterday’s just a flame / A waterdrop in the morning rain” and later “Another day, another scratch / On the surface of the earth.” Whatever self-importance we may assign ourselves, the scope of time we occupy remains tiny and brief compared to the vast planet that surrounds and sustains us. And yet, this needn’t be a message of despair, as the closing stanza offers some small comfort: “All the moments, all the whiles / All the fingerprints of mine / It just couldn’t be / It couldn’t be / More alive.” As limited as our human experience may be, all the worth and beauty we need can be found within it.

If I have one complaint about A Random Moment of Stillness, it’s the lack of stylistic variety. Although every track is equally stirring and mysterious, they also all feel cut from the exact same cloth, like someone listened to Riverside’s “Living in the Past” and decided there should be a whole album of just that. While I understand the temptation, the uniformity is a key limitation of this otherwise strong album. Similar rhythms, tempos, and moods carry throughout the album, preserving the stillness for perhaps too long a moment. SubLunar’s performance flies by in a well-paced and enjoyable forty-three minutes thanks to the legitimately great talent behind it, but after hearing such mastery of one particular style, the listener is left wishing for a broader range.

Of course, it would be unfair not to mention the personal flair that SubLunar display, cutting through the repetition with marbled streaks of individuality. For example, the strong instrumental post-rock influence that takes over at the halfway mark of “Unmanned” sounds totally unlike the rest, setting the focus on a frantic, lonely drum part with gently rising and falling waves of pitch distortion, joined briefly by soft piano notes before finishing on a bright, piercing guitar solo. Łukasz Dumara sets a somber tone with his expression of the carefully crafted lyrics, but SubLunar’s unique character shows best during the lengthy instrumental bridge featured in almost every track. For example, “Attract / Deter” just before the three-minute mark—as Dumara’s heartfelt vocals fade into the backdrop, reverberating guitars echo his closing words “We aren’t made of stone,” reinforcing the message as the abandoned space fills with deepening ambient sounds and increasing rhythmic complexity.

The adjectives “calming” and “depressing” might not be common partners, but A Random Moment of Stillness proves to be a rare exception as it finds affinity in opposing concepts. Prog rock and post-rock vibes combine with thoughtful, poetic lyrics to produce a soothing yet emotional experience. Although comparisons to Riverside are inevitable, SubLunar retain a character of their own, enhancing the atmosphere with ambient and post-rock elements. The result, although backed by clear talent  in the performances, features noticeable uniformity in the rhythm and tone of each track and could be improved by greater variation across the album. Even so, SubLunar’s consistency provides a rare comfort, with gentle vocals pouring out deeply existential lyrics as accompanying guitars complete the dark yet soothing listening experience. What better way to contemplate life’s inherently contradictory and fleeting nature?

Recommended tracks: Unmanned, Falling Upwards, Attract / Deter, A Sun Blur
You may also like: Derev, Sisare, Inhalo, Hillward
Final verdict: 8/10

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

Label: Independent

SubLunar is:
– Łukasz Dumara (vocals)
– Michał Jabłoński (guitars)
– Marcin Pęczkowski (guitars)
– Jacek Książek (bass)
– Łukasz Wszołek (drums)

The post Review: SubLunar – A Random Moment of Stillness appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: progressive metal, doom metal, dark ambient (mixed vocals, mostly clean)
Recommended for fans of: Windhand, Chelsea Wolfe, Pijn, Latitudes
Country: Italy
Release date: 11 April 2025

Artistic development always comes at a cost. Individuality and consistency produce inherent tension, demanding that artists find compromise between their unique form of expression and the ability to communicate ideas in a resonant way. The Spin strikes a poised balance between forward progress and steady improvement, not so much an evolution reaching into new territory nor a recapitulation of tired, overly familiar themes as it is a recombination of existing traits developed throughout their prior discography. Underappreciated for far too long, the inventive Italian prog-doom metal outfit Messa have trod the boundary between underground and mainstream, jumping in popularity each time they released a new album or were featured in a roundup article somewhere, but never quite able to maintain that critical mass of fandom long-term. Perhaps they can finally spin ‘round their fortunes and build the audience they deserve.

Messa use their cauldron of influences to brew an otherworldly stew from ingredients including jazz, bluesy hard rock, dark ambient, and bleak doom metal. Longtime prog metal fans have probably already started imagining what this unholy concoction might sound like as if it’s the most normal thing in the world, but I encourage you to take a moment to consider the care required to create it. That they can throw together these alchemical components while maintaining such a high degree of cohesion is absolutely a testament to the musicians’ talents. The Spin pays off almost a decade of refining Messa’s signature blend, now distilled down to a potent spirit of sorrowful ambiance. Messa’s performance isn’t flashy with pretension or extravagance, instead opting for sharp, clean music saturated with emotional sediment drawn from doom metal’s benthic depths. The runtime also supports these shifting priorities—a shorter outing at a mere forty-ish minutes allows for a tighter focus on expressing the central driving anguish at the heart of the album.

Messa have undergone an interesting progression throughout their last few albums as they dial in on which facets of their music to showcase most. Where Feast for Water chose emotional expression as its first priority, Close settled into a more subdued but precise delivery. The Spin combines a bit of both approaches, presenting an immaculate, ethereal atmosphere that inherits the uncertain quietude of Feast while retaining some of Close’s assertive intensity. With all their varied influences, it’s a hefty task to balance the sparser sounds drawn from the ambient space with the thicker sections of blues/doom heartache, but Messa are equal to it. Despite the contrasts, both aspects contribute towards a common core of undefinable passion.

It’s hard to find an adjective more suited to Messa’s music than “haunting.” Every element, from Sara Bianchin’s voice lurking in the dark corners to the reverberating cymbal crashes, conspires to lure unsuspecting listeners close with soft sweetness before leaping into belted sections laden with devastating emotion. Beyond raw vocal power, though, The Spin develops its most compelling textures through the collaboration between Bianchin and the rest of the band. Moments like the choruses in “The Dress” perfectly marry the unique emotionality of the human voice with the inhuman intensity that amplified instruments provide. After an extended instrumental section featuring dueling solos from guitar and muted trumpet, the closing chorus reprise tears open the heavens with its towering display of emotion from both Bianchin and the accompanying guitars.

In contrast, The Spin’s verse sections prove to be its weakest point, often feeling like a means of getting from one point to another. Almost every track shares the same loose structure, usually with a pair of verse-chorus repetitions, an instrumental bridge, and one final chorus to close things out. The noteworthy moments arrive most consistently during those instrumental sections, as well as in individual flourishes and features—and let’s be clear, these are some stellar flourishes. That said, the verses in between feel like a return to the atmospheric but disappointing filler from Feast for Water (like “She Knows”). The Spin adds several layers of polish in both production and composition which help smooth over the listening experience compared to Messa’s earlier days, but it’s not enough to completely eliminate the underlying imperfections that still undercut their songwriting at times. Even with all of the band’s artistic progress uplifting The Spin, the empty verses of “At Races,” “Fire on the Roof,” and “Reveal” remain unfortunate detractors from an otherwise divine experience.

Sometimes, the price of consistency is character; other times, the price of progress is consistency. With their last two albums, Messa have now paid the price in both directions, first ramping up their consistency for a steadier and gentler outing in Close, then trading some of that consistency to hone their distinctive sound to its finest edge yet. While not every track on The Spin displays Messa’s full emotional range, the precision and quality of their musicianship are unquestionable, a testament to their effort and growth as artists. Furthermore, the highlights are truly stunning, enhancing vibrant performances with keen, experienced presentation. While the resulting album has its low points as well, Messa’s overall refinement of their sound and their display of stunning songwriting marks a turning point in their careers.

Recommended tracks: Void Meridian, Immolation, The Dress, Thicker Blood
You may also like: Dreadnought, Maud the Moth, healthyliving, SubRosa (the doom metal one from Utah)
Final verdict: 8/10

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

Label: Metal Blade Records – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Messa is:
– Sara Bianchin (vocals)
– Marco Zanin (bass, synthesizers)
– Alberto Piccolo (guitars, synthesizers, piano)
– Rocco Toaldo (drums, vocals)

The post Review: Messa – The Spin appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: heavy progressive rock (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Soen (pre-Lotus), Riverside, Wheel (the Finnish one)
Country: Canada / International
Release date: 26 March 2025

Making the leap in format from EP to LP is such a common pattern among the first releases of fledgling bands that it would almost feel unusual to see an artist take a different tack. Derev join so many of their peers leaving the proverbial nest with Troubled Mind, finally paying off the obvious potential talent shown by their slightly rough but still artistically compelling debut EP Leap of Faith. Derev bring a few influences to the table, combining some elements of heavy prog rock (think Riverside) with equal parts of dark alternative metal. Although I wouldn’t go so far as to compare Derev to Tool, the most direct analogy would still be to two other Tool-alikes: Soen and Wheel (no, not the epic doom metal band, the other one). At their most subtle, Derev perform with all the gravitas of Soen at their peak (it’s all been downhill since Lykaia, fight me), but the deep, dark tone full of bass and low vocals is just as reminiscent of the alt-metal edge from Wheel’s Resident Human.

My exploration of Troubled Mind followed the opposite progression as my time with Leap of Faith—where my appreciation of the EP has grown with the benefit of more time to digest Derev’s style and complexities, this new LP comes front-loaded with positive first impressions. The instrumental bridge starting at about the halfway mark of opener “Buried Voice” provides the first big highlight and demonstrates Derev’s significant strides forward in the maturity of their songwriting and recording since Leap of Faith. Their poised and careful composition already cultivates the same rich, clear tone found in the best parts of their EP, and Troubled Mind’s extra production polish ensures that every sweet or savory moment delivers its full flavor. The complex time signatures found on tracks like “Tides of Time” and “Room 9” foster a feeling of mystery and instability, and clever usage of shifting time signatures and interlocking polyrhythms thematically mimics the capricious visions of an insecure consciousness. The band’s other great asset is Adel Saflou’s strong yet luscious voice, which imparts emotion into the words he sings better than many genre veterans (looking at you, LaBrie) in part due to his great capacity for varying the intensity and the emotional tone of his voice. His performance is also aided by the lyrics themselves, which tackle poignant, impactful subjects like self-loathing, intrusive thoughts, and grief for a lost loved one.

Derev don’t hesitate to showcase instrumental performances either, as is particularly evident from the impressively intricate all-instrumental “Paracusia,” but weighty bass flourishes and rich melodic soundscapes of guitar and keyboard abound throughout Troubled Mind. The early instrumental interlude “Crawl Space” also sets itself apart, building a lovely cinematic atmosphere with synthesized strings and harp despite its short runtime. Even the drums get plenty of time in the sun, featuring several less common percussion instruments (such as the Middle Eastern darbuka which opens “Darker Self”) while weaving steady yet technical backing rhythms, a solid background that casts Derev’s cleverness into even sharper relief. Unfortunately, all their compositional trickery and self-evident talent isn’t always enough to elevate the listening experience of Troubled Mind. Outside of certain tracks like the aforementioned “Paracusia,” most parts of the album lack that elusive spark which would allow Derev to ignite their quality kindling into a bonfire, and as a result those parts remain pleasant at a surface level but unremarkable on deeper inspection.

Similarly, the lyrical themes can feel a little one-note. Although each song tackles a different facet of mental turmoil, they all take more or less the same approach in expressing their concepts, with a rich and malty melancholy mood accompanied by lyrics which dive into the inner struggles of whatever mental malady serves as the present topic, both of which would sound right at home in one of Riverside’s early releases. That said, the emotional closing track “Trace Within” stands out, flawlessly intertwining concept and execution with its lyrical structure and judicious use of a guest vocalist (whose name I unfortunately can’t find listed anywhere) to contrast Saflou’s dark vocal tone. Aside from the introductory verse sung by Saflou alone, each verse repeats once while adding or removing one of the two singers. First the guest sings the verse alone, then the reprise and the next verse continue as a duet, and finally Saflou closes out the album singing three lonely lines by himself—“To ease the pain / I call your name / Come back again.” The expression of enduring grief is palpable, each singer clinging to their few moments together and mourning their separation when forced apart.

In their progression from Leap of Faith to Troubled Mind, Derev have made admirable advances musically, but the specter of their inconsistent execution still looms in the background. Although never poor in quality, Troubled Mind’s later sections still betray the implied promise made by the early greatness of “Buried Voice.” The core elements remain the same throughout, painting metaphorical scenes of mental distress with precise instrumental tone and evocative lyrical description, but Derev struggle to replicate the impact of the opening track, with few, fleeting exceptions. The composition is clever, the performances talented, the lyrics meaningful and emotional, but without more demonstration of those transcendent moments the band is clearly capable of, it just isn’t enough to blow my mind.

Recommended tracks: Buried Voice, Room 9, Paracusia, Darker Self, Trace Within
You may also like: Diagonal Path, Inhalo, Traverser, Chaos Divine
Final verdict: 7/10

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

Label: Independent

Derev is:
– Adel Saflou (vocals)
– Armando Bablanian (guitars)
– Michel Karakach (drums)
– Stan Komarovsky (bass)
– Ran Zehavi (keyboards)

The post Review: Derev – Troubled Mind appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: progressive rock, jazz fusion, psychedelic rock (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Vulkan, Thank You Scientist, The Mars Volta
Country: Chile
Release date: 4 March 2025

Ah, the ever-contentious question of what determines a genre. I return often to this video essay by Mike Rugnetta at the (sadly now defunct) PBS Idea Channel, which posits in part that new artistic genres are not always defined by an artist doing anything strictly groundbreaking. Some trend-setters, such as Franz Kafka or the Dark Souls series of video games, instead “create their own precursors,” establishing new genres by recontextualizing artistic elements that had already been used by their peers and predecessors. These subtle revolutionaries bring new perspectives as they pick out existing commonalities that in retrospect could have already described a genre of their own, had anyone cared to see the link. Music, of course, is no exception to this kind of effect; sometimes the most exciting artists aren’t those breaking new ground entirely, but rather those who can combine things you already loved in a way few others have (yet).

Chercán step onto the stage with their self-titled debut album, and while it would be premature to herald the formation of a new genre, their most noteworthy features are found in the recombination of diverse styles—familiar, but not exactly like any individual band. I was first drawn to Chercán by their similarity to Vulkan, a moderately-known but rarely-imitated band fusing aspects of psychedelic and heavy progressive rock (reminiscent of The Mars Volta but far less wacky). Chercán draw their core sound from this same well, leaning slightly away from the heavy prog influences in favor of jazz, and the Chileans’ instrumentation strays into the unconventional with the inclusion of saxophone as a primary contributor. Matías Bahamondes covers the whole range of the woodwind’s capabilities, from calm jazz rock akin to Thank You Scientist in “7 Colores” to experimental wailing at the tail end of “Caen Las Hojas Blancas,” but for the most part the saxophone integrates into the mix as smoothly as a second lead guitar. Guest musicians on string instruments also add extra color to the palette, sometimes subtly blending with the more traditional jazz/rock orchestration, but also stepping into the spotlight from time to time, such as during the interlude “Desolación (En)” and the opening of the balladic followup “Tiempos Paralelos.”

Chercán excel as much at expressing an aggressive, hard-edged mood bordering on metal as they do at producing a softer, instrumental focused, almost symphonic rock sound. Even moreso, it’s impressive how the same musicians and instruments can contribute equally to each facet. Martín Peña’s vocals impart a sense of tension and urgency during more abrasive times like “Caen Las Hojas Blancas” just as much as they add to the expressive beauty of the string-focused “Tiempos Paralelos.” Meanwhile, the duelling saxophone and guitar melodies that adorn each song shift effortlessly into whichever tone is required from moment to moment, alternately pouring out harsh intensity to the full extent of each instrument’s capabilities in the second half of opener “La Culpa” and producing sweet, calming melodic layers in “Kalimba.” I would be remiss to not also mention drummer Rodrigo González Mera, whose fantastic rhythm parts almost rival the melody instruments in their intricacy (most notably in “Relato De Una Obsesión. Parte II: El Orate”). Additional percussion instruments not found on a standard drum kit add a further sense of the otherworldly and sublime throughout both parts of “Relato De Una Obsesión” as well as during the marimba-filled opening of “Kalimba.”

I complain all too often about bands whose unwieldy and repetitive riffs carve virtual ruts into the sound of their music, wearing down the listener’s patience the way anxious pacing wears out the carpet. I have good news, though: Chercán are not one of those bands. Repetitive phrases like the chugging guitar and saxophone rhythms which recur a couple times throughout “Las Mentiras Del Muro” establish a steady groove while mixing up the details, like the shift from low, almost growled vocals to high shrieks after a couple cycles. Most importantly, Chercán have the sense to get out of the way and move on to something else before it becomes too stale, as they do with the energetic instrumental break that closes out “Las Mentiras.” Only two slightly dimmer spots blemish the sheen of this otherwise excellent album. While Chercán’s musical talent and quality never come into question, the tracks “Caen Las Hojas Blancas” and “Las Mentiras Del Muro” partially undercut the musical experience that Chercán otherwise provides. Both focus more heavily on the in-your-face and intense side of the band’s repertoire, and the relative uniformity leads to a less exciting and dynamic experience than the subtlety that Chercán are capable of at their peak, as demonstrated by the opener “La Culpa” which successfully balances both extremes.

Unbound by standards of genre or instrumentation, Chercán revel in the endless recombination of music. Drawing on the eclectic psychedelic and progressive influences of their musical ancestors Vulkan and The Mars Volta, Chercán execute a coup de grâce with the addition of saxophone and strings, elevating their debut to a unique plane of music. Chercán is dynamic, it shows a range of talents, and it’s also just gorgeous. Talented songwriting allows the musicians the space they need to shine, building momentum and avoiding dull repetition with a wealth of musical ideas available to cycle through, but also maintaining a steady pace that never feels like it’s in a rush to continue from one section to the next. Although their individual features inevitably trace back to some other source of inspiration, their creative combination offers a welcome shot of novelty in a year that’s been a little slow to get off the ground.

Recommended tracks: La Culpa, Kalimba, Tiempos Paralelos, Relato De Una Obsesión (both parts), 7 Colores
You may also like: Bend the Future, Seven Impale, Papangu
Final verdict: 8/10

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

Label: Independent

Chercán is:
– Martín Peña (vocals, guitars – “7 Colores”)
– Simón Catalán (bass)
– Roberto Faúndez (guitars)
– Matías Bahamondes (saxophone)
– Rodrigo González Mera (percussion)
With guests:
– Benjamín Ruz (violin)
– Javiera González (viola)
– Ariadna Kordovero (cello)

The post Review: Chercán – Chercán appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: post-metal, atmospheric metal (instrumental)
Recommended for fans of: Aesthesys, Caspian, Explosions In The Sky
Country: Belgium
Release date: 14 February 2025

I feel bad for any band with fewer than four members. It seems like every single person, upon finding out the lineup, is obliged to comment “Wow, I can’t believe this was made by so few people!” Well, I definitely believe that Black Narcissus consists of only two musicians, but not in a bad way; the two-man scope allows for a careful balancing act whose precision might be lost in the chaos of a larger band. There Lingers One Who’s Long Forgotten has the feeling of an intimate chamber performance with a limited audience, its sound shaped by the natural acoustics of a small concert hall. In their recital, Black Narcissus unite a particularly ambient emptiness with the semi-darkness of post-metal, arriving at a middle ground that seems like it should inherit the best of both worlds, but this collision of styles doesn’t always turn out as harmonious as expected.

As Black Narcissus put on this private performance, the biggest feature that stands out is their unique timbre achieved by using bass as the primary melodic instrument. For example, at around 5:15 of “Draped in Ivy, Guilded by Time” comes a moment of light, ethereal harmony that’s difficult to imagine being achieved with a typical guitar-first roster, but also sounds totally detached from the low rumbles normally associated with bass parts. In contrast, “These Hands That Build” or “In Throes of Increasing Wonder” each open with more traditional low, clear bass sounds, placing heavy emphasis on what would normally be a rhythm section of drums and bass, with only minimal attempts at a melody using the bass’s higher range. Even then, clearing the middle frequencies of raucous guitar tones leaves all the more space for rich bass to shine through and finally receive the attention it has long deserved. Later in the album, “Something Strange and Eternal” and closing track “A Story and a Friend” take a slightly different approach, still highlighting the low bass in places, but also taking care to steadily develop more and more thin layers on top, building up the initial ambient atmosphere into more substantial melodies that nevertheless retain the core beautiful, expansive experience that began each track.

This two-member project is also a tale of two distinct albums: one heavy post-metal pile of distortion and one atmospheric chillfest. Jarringly, the seams between these two faces of There Lingers One often run right down the middle of a track, jumping from spaced-out ambiance to weighty distorted despair in a blink, only to do the reverse a few minutes later—like Jekyll and Hyde at a shoegaze festival. The opener “On This Twilight Evening” feels especially off balance as the first touch of that heavier side enters at the 3:30 mark with little transition or fanfare, a non sequitur to everything that came before that moment. While the final third of the track shifts into a compromise of mobile, lightly fuzzy melodies against a soft background, the track as a whole feels divided and unfocused, a theme that will continue throughout the album. Opening the second half, “It Calls, It Beckons, It Guides Us Through the Gloom” makes the same error, laying out alternating scenes of pastoral countryside and storm-lashed cliffs next to each other with little obvious rhyme, reason, or musical connection from one to the next. Where There Lingers One’s longest track could have been an opportunity for deep development of one cohesive mood, we’re instead left with a jumble of disjointed parts. Some of those parts may be individually ear-catching, but their summation detracts from the end result rather than adding to it.

As my part of the world transitions from a frigid winter into a spring drenched in snowmelt, these internally conflicted tracks put me in mind of a cold morning after a night of warm rain. Wispy clouds slowly gather around the music, until a cold, dark wind blows through, driving them away and dispelling the ambiance; equally, those misty mornings lack something of a chill bite that could be borrowed from the frosty afternoon distortion that follows. In either case, the air is just too clear and empty for a proper fog to settle. Black Narcissus struggle with this dichotomy that pervades most post- and ambient music: the divide between heavy and light, between busy and empty, between too much and too little. The dividing line can be extremely fine—preferences for one side or the other are a matter of personal taste, but a piece of music falling just barely too far in either direction can be enough to ruin the experience for any given listener. Personally, as one of the more outspoken post-rock and -metal fans at The Progressive Subway, even during quiet, reverb-y moments, I want depth that I can explore. I prefer a pile of harmonies and complex rhythms to appreciate, not just some faded-out rhythm guitar (or in this case bass) playing simple melodies over a soft drum part as if applying an ambient style to an unconventional combination of rock instruments is automatically cool. There Lingers One shows a clear conflict between extremes of style, and most of the time I’m left wishing for any other band with a better sense of balance.

Black Narcissus get top marks for aesthetic, and their occasional moments of brilliant beauty can briefly carry the listener’s interest, but those moments remain too rare. Their soundscapes carry a gorgeous emptiness undercut by their tendency to blend in distracting distortion where greater impact could be achieved by leaving those graceful expanses unblemished. It’s not impossible to craft an album that straddles the line between light and heavy as There Lingers One Who’s Long Forgotten attempts to, but in this case the imperfect balance undermines both aspects rather than each of them supporting the other. Strong artistic sensibilities aren’t always enough to produce a compelling end product, and for all of Black Narcissus’s artistry, their vision manifests primarily in a fragmented, unbalanced mosaic. Its extremes fall a little too far on either end of the color spectrum, while the central image is left with jagged edges, making it difficult to pick out, like lingering, fragmented memories of one long forgotten.

Recommended tracks: These Hands That Build, Something Strange and Eternal, In Throes of Increasing Wonder, A Story and a Friend
You may also like: Downriver Dead Men Go, Midas Fall, The Depth Beneath Us, Helen Money
Final verdict: 6/10

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

Label: Dunk! Records (Europe) – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website
A Thousand Arms Music (US) – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Black Narcissus is:
– Jesse Massant (bass)
– Thomas Wuyts (drums)

The post Review: Black Narcissus – There Lingers One Who’s Long Forgotten appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: progressive rock, post-hardcore, math rock (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Eidola, Hail The Sun, Protest The Hero, Thrice
Country: Oregon, United States
Release date: 17 January 2025

Sometimes an album’s cover artwork alone is enough to fascinate you before you’ve even heard a note. In this case, what more is there to say than: frog. With cape. The fashionable amphibian dazzled the Progressive Subway writers from the moment he first appeared in our bookmarked albums, and the album which he fronts turns out to be almost as enigmatic as the figure himself. The lyrics throughout Object Unto Earth’s The Grim Village lean towards the abstract in a Rishloo-esque way, steeped in metaphor and built from tantalizing phrases made up of perfectly ordinary words whose slippery deeper meaning slithers away before you can get a grasp. Meanwhile, repeated mentions of frogs, crows, rats, and other beasts maintain a more grounded view of a forest community of intelligent animals.

The Grim Village features a unique guitar tone that defies any single descriptor, straddling the line between crunchy and fuzzy, combining the best parts of hard-edged post-hardcore, hazy psychedelia, and smooth, technical math rock. Individual tracks lean more in one direction or another, such as “On A Pale Horse I Thrive” which sets an aggressive post-hardcore tone early on, “Dreadful Lord of Toads” which maximizes the psychedelic elements, or the heavy post-metal overcast of “Onward With Blinding Speed” that opens the second half. These varied guitar features pair with a sharp vocal delivery reminiscent in part of Eidola, with also an echo of The Dear Hunter’s theatricality, and together these disparate components plot a map of the composer’s eclectic whims and whimsies as he leads the audience on a merry adventure through the woods.

The downside of all these different genre elements is that The Grim Village lacks a clear focal point or emotional center. At times edgy and hostile (“I Said I Wouldn’t but I Did”), at others dreamy and melancholy (“Alas, I Hop Along”), all these moods seem at odds with the overall aesthetic of Redwall-esque anthropomorphic forest creatures. As a further side effect, when certain tracks (like “Dreadful Lord of Toads” or the first half of “Sludge Crumpet”) let up on the forceful forward momentum and bring down the tempo, they tend to get lost in the milieu, not bound to the rest of the album by any obvious concept or even really by musical style. These drifting castaway moments divide the listener’s attention, robbing the more put-together climactic moments of some of their impact as the audience tries to piece together how we got from there to here. On the other hand, the nonconformity leaves room for unique little interludes like “For a Frogful of Dollars,” whose lively Western-film-inspired theme leaves me disappointed on every listen that it wasn’t developed into a complete song; a little more zest before the closing track might have helped carry through the momentum being built in the second half of The Grim Village.

Object Unto Earth founder Jonathan Zajdman offered some background behind the album’s development on their Instagram profile, saying “it became a love letter to being alive and being yourself, and how anything else is untenable and a waste of time.” He elaborated in a later post that the energy and creativity that drove The Grim Village’s creation arose from a nearly fatal car accident which he escaped with minimal injuries, saying that the creative process offered him a valuable form of catharsis after such emotional trauma. If I may read between the lines a little, that seems to also include the kind of existential emotional turmoil that follows a near-death experience. Although the surface-level concept expressed in the music itself has little to do with that fateful crash, the sense of catharsis comes through with full clarity; the final few tracks pull these themes out into full view in their lyrics. “Death is the Test of It” ends with the existential line ‘I died and I might and that’s okay,’ and “Bombina, Bombina!!” continues with its pseudo-chorus ‘Oblivion / You came a little bit too close / Now you’re here I′ve been struck by a fear / That I can′t outrun, outgrow, or face alone.’ These songs show the kind of radical acceptance needed in order to move on from such harrowing events, keeping their serious subject camouflaged by an upbeat and uptempo tone and emphasizing life’s little joys as a means of fending off mortality’s sudden proximity.

The Grim Village presents a peculiar collection of songs, some remarkable and some not so much, laying out their author’s inner thoughts with varying clarity and specificity and reflecting on the value of life’s experiences, even the most mundane ones. Like a woodland peddler, Object Unto Earth offer up an array of trinkets and baubles to catch the eyes of passing market-goers; some are little more than pretty polished river stones, but exotic treasures hide within, hinting at legends of their own. The eclectic styles and fantastical lyrics bring surprises at every turn, most of them exciting, but a few also a bit disappointing as the momentum spins out down a side trail. So come, join this caped croaker on an amble through the arbor, and maybe you can discover some existential dread along the way!

Recommended tracks: On A Pale Horse I Thrive; Onward With Blinding Speed; Death is the Test of It; Bombina, Bombina!!
You may also like: Vower, East of the Wall, Children of Nova, Anemera, Rosetta
Final verdict: 7/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Official Website | Instagram

Label: Seven Sided Sounds – Instagram

Object Unto Earth is:
– Jonathan Zajdman (vocals)
– Eric Bloombaum (drums)
– Lucille (guitars)
– Emily Kinsey (bass)

The post Review: Object Unto Earth – The Grim Village appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: progressive metal, power metal (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Unleash The Archers, Epica, Nightwish, The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask
Country: Washington, D.C., United States
Release date: 17 January 2025

Here I go again, perpetuating my sin of reviewing albums inspired by something I have little-to-no personal connection to myself. I’ll say it up front: I have never played Majora’s Mask, or in fact any Legend of Zelda game.¹ What can I say, I’ve never been a Nintendo guy. But I know the great impact that these games have had on the people who play them and on the medium of video games as a whole, so I still feel that loving inspiration carried on through the band and into their music. Master Sword took great care in paying homage to the game’s iconic creepy fantasy atmosphere, a care that’s evident in their numerous references to the source material. This labor of love results from a successful Kickstarter campaign to fund greater resources for its mastering and production, but Toying With Time is only the first half of Master Sword’s plan to cover Majora’s Mask, with part two expected to receive its own Kickstart at some unannounced future time.

Toying With Time hits just the right balance of referencing its source material enough to please Zelda fans without overloading listeners like myself for whom that connection has little meaning. Most of these references would fly by unnoticed by the unprepared ear, but once they’ve been pointed out, the homages add a fun bit of spice and help make the album feel uniquely connected to the game rather than being just another prog-power release. To name a few examples, opener “The Salesman” drops in a cheeky lyrical reference to one of the franchise’s iconic lines with “It’s dangerous alone”; “How You Hide” mimics the notes of the “Great Fairy Fountain” theme in its chorus; and “Shadows of the Mind” hints at the “Song of Healing,” while the closing track “Child of the Night” imitates Skullkid’s villainous laugh and possibly pays homage to “Majora’s Theme” in its opening melody and chorus. One of the highlights, though, is “My Last Breath,” with guest Professor Shyguy joining for a powerful vocal duet, which retells the side-quest story of Anju and Kafei, two lovers cursed to remain apart until the hero intervenes to reunite them. Even without knowing the backstory or source material, it stands out as a touching ballad, and it only grows more meaningful with that added context.

Although Master Sword have been around the musical block a few times now, something about Toying With Time’s production feels slightly off-kilter at times. As early as the opening track “The Salesman,” the different parts fight with each other for attention, guitars and drums trading their loudness back and forth seemingly at random as the piece develops. Even the vocals fall victim to this internal conflict around the 3:15 mark, where the lead melody almost gets buried by a strangely loud choral backing part. These mixing woes don’t feature as clearly in any other tracks as they do in the opener, but they also never fully subside. Little hiccups crop up just often enough to interrupt what should otherwise be clean transitions or moments of complex overlapping parts and prevent Toying With Time from feeling fully professional in its polish.

Singer Lily Andromeda forms the most consistent core of this outfit, bringing the kind of razor-sharp, powerful delivery expected of female-fronted power metal acts like Master Sword. Production and mixing concerns aside, her consistent strength brings out the best and most memorable moments throughout Toying With Time, including the belted chorus of “Dance of the Demon” and the aforementioned balladic duet “My Last Breath.” As for the instrumentals backing her up, while they have their shining moments (such as, again, “Dance of the Demon” as well as the urgent, exciting, Unleash The Archers-esque rhythms of the title track), they also are the first to fall into rote rhythms which seem to loop on and on forever (although I suppose that’s appropriate for Majora’s Mask) when a track’s energy begins to drop.

Despite all the pieces of heart they’ve gathered and the strong source of their inspiration, Master Sword’s execution doesn’t always land with the kind of poise and impact I might hope for. This type of prog-power typically thrives on bold layers of vocals and instrumentals supporting each other, some taking up steady but energetic rhythms while others lead with lofty, epic melodies. Too often, though, Master Sword falls into a rut where none of these goals quite come to fruition, leaving the melody line (whether carried by vocals or guitar) with a conspicuous lack of hooks, and even the backing rhythms frequently settle into over-repetition of some simple beat that doesn’t inspire any particular enthusiasm in the listener. “Shadows of the Mind” demonstrates this core struggle perfectly; both vocals and guitars seem to spin in circles for the first three minutes before the second half breaks out into a more mysterious vocal tone and more active, engaging instrumental parts that finally put forth the sort of epic fantasy feel I would expect from a band like this. The closing duo “Son of Stone (Winter’s Requiem)” and “Child of the Night” also don’t make the best use of their longer runtimes and climactic positioning—both tracks have individual strong moments, but lack a powerful through-line that could bring the album the finale its concept deserves.

At no point is the band’s passion for music or for their Hylian muse in doubt, but certain moments do more credit to that passion than others. Sporting a healthy amount of references to the Majora’s Mask source material—enough to entice long-time fans, but not so much that an uninitiated listener feels out of the loop—Toying With Time has all the hallmarks of a standard prog-power album, but only sometimes achieves the stirring, forceful delivery owed to source material of this caliber. Still, it’s a fun romp with consistently excellent vocals and a handful of moments where it really does feel like you might be listening to Hyrule’s very own metal band. If you find yourself heading alone into danger, perhaps it would help to bring along a Master Sword.

Recommended tracks: Dance of the Demon, My Last Breath, Toying With Time
You may also like: Empress, Scardust, Flame Imperishable, Divine Ascension, Seven Kingdoms
Final verdict: 6/10

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

Label: Independent

Master Sword is:
– Lily Andromeda (vocals)
– Matt Farkas (keyboards, guitars, backing vocals)
– Andy Stark (drums, backing vocals)
– Kojo Kamya (guitars, keyboards, backing vocals)
– Will Lopez (bass)
With guests:
– Prof. Shyguy (vocals, “How You Hide” and “My Last Breath”)
– 88Bit (piano, “My Last Breath”)
– Elizabeth Webb (vocals, “Son of Stone (Winter’s Requiem)”)
– Robert Cameron (backing vocals, “Child of the Night”)
– Adam Schloss (backing vocals, “Child of the Night”)
– James Hunter (backing vocals, “Child of the Night”)

1. That said, a huge thank you to my girlfriend for helping me identify several references and direct inspirations from the game! ︎

The post Review: Master Sword – Toying With Time appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Honorable mentions

DVNE – Voidkind: DVNE have dvne it again. Voidkind goes full throttle from start to finish, a worthy successor to the stratospheric bar set by Asheran with unparalleled crushing intensity and a spellbinding, arcane atmosphere.

Pijn – From Low Beams Of Hope: Although not quite my overall favorite, this unexpected triumph ended up having the greatest emotional impact on me of any album this year. Between the melancholy-but-hopeful spoken-word lyrics of “Our Endless Hours” (quoted in the excerpt) and the poignant contrast of moody post-doom ambiance with strings and occasional wind instruments, I keep finding more and more reasons to come back to this one.

Kingcrow – Hopium: Kingcrow teased us all year by dipping in and out of the range of listener counts that are eligible for us to review, but joke’s on them: all they get from me is this little honorable mention. Hopium took a little while to grow on me, but as a final impression, it’s a strong outing for Kingcrow, who sound more comfortable and confident in their style than ever.

10. Alkera – Zamanın Ötesine

Style: progressive metal (mixed vocals, majority clean; lyrics in Turkish)
Recommended for fans of: Dream Theater, Haken, Symphony X, Seventh Wonder

Alkera remind us that great music, and even the emotion behind the words being sung, transcends language. Despite not speaking a word of Turkish myself, Zamanın Ötesine impressed me from minute one with the natural, powerful emotion behind every aspect of the band’s performance. With a little help from Google Translate, I was able to uncover a clearer picture of the album’s lyrical themes, and although no translation will ever perfectly capture the writer’s original intent, it was enough for me to feel moved at the messages of persistence in the face of overwhelming pain being communicated across language and culture. The ensemble’s instrumental work piles on the quality as well, with virtuosic solos and even the fully instrumental “Peripeteya” being worthy of their titanic influences from the likes of Dream Theater and Haken.

Recommended tracks: Dilhun, Peripeteya, Zamanın Ötesine
Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | original review

9. Ikaiora – Beneath a Drifting Haze 

Style: post-metal, doom metal (instrumental)
Recommended for fans of: Cult of Luna, Pijn, If These Trees Could Talk, Latitudes

2024 was a fantastic year for post-metal—and it’s about time, too. Even little-known solo artist releases like this one carry the seeds of genre greats like Cult of Luna, and share that same capacity to carry the listener beyond the veil of an ethereal fantasy world. Ikaiora masterfully controls silence and empty space to create the sorts of beautifully vacant soundscapes that leave you sitting in your chair afterwards, listening to the silence of your headphones while you slowly finish processing what you just heard.

Recommended tracks: all of them, but especially “casting faint shadows”
Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | original review

8. Giant Sleeper – Hyperliminal 

Style: progressive metal, djent, jazz fusion (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: The Contortionist, Animals as Leaders, Scale the Summit, Arch Echo

Could it be? Finally, a djent band accomplishing something unique and different? Giant Sleeper bear few of the hallmarks of traditional, overabundant djent music, replacing most of the heavy chugs with lively bass lines and covering it all with high, energetic guitar melodies that bring unique creativity to each track. Even the vocals take on a softer, almost crooning tone instead of the typical hardcore edge. That said, with the exception of the best and final track “Part of Me,” generally the strongest parts of Hyperliminal are those without vocals, but that instrumental strength is still enough to carry an overall memorable outing and some truly standout individual tracks.

Recommended tracks: Wondrous Physick, Ultracrepidarian, The Grudge Process II, Part of Me
Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | original review

7. Lost In Lavender Town – On Tonight’s Show

Style: progressive metal, djent (instrumental)
Recommended for fans of: Arch Echo, Angel Vivaldi, Liquid Tension Experiment, RichaadEB, Video game music

Heavy metal and video games go way back, whether through soundtracks to games like Doom employing the genre’s credentials to boost their intensity, or cover artists like RichaadEB producing their own metal covers of tracks from beloved games. Although not itself a cover album, On Tonight’s Show evokes the feeling of video game covers, and game soundtracks themselves, in an instrumental metal format. Chock full of Final Fantasy references (despite the band name), this action-packed EP pays back the progressive influences that have fed into the series soundtracks for decades with a new take on what a slightly jazzy prog metal video game soundtrack might sound like.

Recommended tracks: Blitz Ace, Plate, Braver, Clancy
Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | original review

6. Turbulence – Binary Dream 

Style: progressive metal (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Dream Theater, Haken, Circus Maximus

Concept albums are intimately intertwined with the legacy of traditional progressive metal and carry an equally great amount of baggage; sometimes it feels as though hardly anyone actually enjoys them. Binary Dream never quite manages to sneak out from under this weighty bulk and certainly runs afoul of the timeless pitfall of having a vague and terminally philosophical concept built on profound-sounding lyrics that fly a bit above the audience’s heads. Still, both the instrumental and vocal performances stand at the top of their respective weight classes, offering emotional delivery and crafting an abstract, futuristic setting impressive enough to make even attentive listeners overlook that the written lyrics can’t quite keep up the same level of expression and quality.

Recommended tracks: Theta, Manifestations, Binary Dream, Hybrid
Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | original review

5. Anciients – Beyond the Reach of the Sun 

Style: sludge metal, progressive metal (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Mastodon, The Ocean, DVNE, Psychonaut

It’s a little bit difficult to pick out what to celebrate from Beyond the Reach of the Sun. In part that’s because it offers little that stands out from past Anciients albums, but also because the quality of their musicianship is incredibly consistent, with no real low points to complain about, but by the same token, their continuous excellence leaves few unique moments to specifically highlight. Aside from the absolutely incredible album artwork (stay tuned for more on that), Beyond the Reach of the Sun is mostly a sequence of one very good track after another, none of them individually vying for a spot at the top of the year’s charts, but in aggregate, it would be foolish not to recognize the sum of quality displayed in this album.

Recommended tracks: Forbidden Sanctuary, Cloak Of The Vast And Black, Celestial Tyrant, The Torch
Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | original review

4. Orso – Caffè? 

Style: post-metal, sludge metal, progressive metal (instrumental)
Recommended for fans of: Cult of Luna, The Ocean, If These Trees Could Talk, Pijn

This rich, sludgy post-metal outing embodies the sensation of warm, rich coffee in its perfectly poised rhythms and complex, elevated melodies. Although the album’s highly caffeinated concept might at first seem like just a silly gimmick, the end result exudes competence and a commitment to great music. On top of their typical post-metal heaviness, Orso offer elevated moments of catharsis (especially in the epic closing track “Affogato”), invoking more emotion than one might expect from the sometimes aloof and detached genre while even further intensifying the resolutions of their immense builds. Fans of Cult of Luna’s brand of crushingly intense post-metal instrumentals should be sure to check out Orso’s rendition.

Recommended tracks: Ristretto, Espresso, Affogato
Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | original review

3. delving – All Paths Diverge 

Style: progressive rock, stoner rock, psychedelic rock, krautrock (instrumental)
Recommended for fans of: Elder, Weedpecker, Elephant Tree

Solo projects of artists from well-known bands tend to be noteworthy for how they depart from the artistic direction of the “primary” project, and delving’s first album Hirschbrunnen was no exception. All Paths Diverge ironically diverges from that trend by instead converging back towards the signature stoner/doom style of DiSalvo’s main band Elder, with just enough of his own unique touches to keep it feeling distinct. With that regression, though, All Paths Diverge sounds all the more full-bodied and intense, enriched by bright psychedelic keyboards but still delivering a hearty depth of fuzz throughout.

Recommended tracks: Omnipresence, Chain of Mind, New Meridian, The Ascetic
Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | original review

2. Sunburst – Manifesto 

Style: progressive metal, power metal, symphonic metal (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Dream Theater, Symphony X, Kamelot

Sunburst fit right into a particular mold of plucky underground prog-power groups, such as Course of Fate or Black Fate (with whom Sunburst even shares two members) with their chunky, Michael Romeo-inspired guitars and high-reaching vibrato-ed vocals. Sunburst, though, carry a little extra kick of symphonic metal, bolstered by a touch of orchestral arrangements on the opening and closing tracks. Although outside of those embellishments, Manifesto settles into a bit of a uniform, comfortable groove, that commonality also adds consistency, and Sunburst’s consistent, self-evident excellence defines this album. Whatever they may lack in uniqueness or complexity, they make up for by playing every moment to its fullest potential and maximizing the impression that their performance leaves on listeners’ ears.

Recommended tracks: The Flood, Perpetual Descent, Inimicus Intus, Nocturne
Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | original review

1. Triton Project – Messenger’s Quest

Style: progressive metal, power metal (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Dream Theater, Seventh Wonder, Circus Maximus

Sometimes what it takes to be the best isn’t reinventing the proverbial wheel but instead just doing the same old thing really well. Triton Project don’t offer anything groundbreaking to the progressive metal scene, but Messenger’s Quest hits all the right notes for an epic traditional prog album with just a touch of power metal. With a slight emphasis on keyboards (likely due to the project’s keyboard player also being the founder and primary composer) defining Triton Project’s signature aesthetic, the overall experience will be familiar to any fan of traditional progressive metal, calling to mind Seventh Wonder or Circus Maximus for their slightly darker, more mysterious and sinister tone. The difference is, Messenger’s Quest is a staggering debut, handling the monumental challenge of epic prog songwriting with ease as multiple songs fly right past the ten-minute mark, each leaving a steady succession of great moments in its wake and never overstaying its welcome.

Recommended tracks: The Key if you want something short, or Lighthouse of the World if you don’t mind something longer, but you owe it to yourself to hear it all
Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | original review

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