Style: progressive death metal (harsh vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Ne Obliviscaris, Black Crown Initiate, Opeth
Country: United Kingdom
Release date: 4 July 2025

Progressive metal is a genre that thrives off pushing its own boundaries, each band trying to outdo their peers be it through instrumental prowess, philosophical depth, or sheer originality. As such, progressive metal is a genre defined by its high water mark albums: releases where an artist breaks free from the faceless crowd around them and manages to rise head and shoulders above, often inspiring a legion of copycats in their wake. In the wider prog scene, albums like Dream Theater’s Images and Words, Tool’s Ænima, and Meshuggah’s Nothing are such examples, but if one narrows their focus to progressive death metal, two bands come starkly into view: Opeth and Ne Obliviscaris.

While the bands’ respective sounds differ in some fundamental ways, their fusions of the unabashed viscerality of death metal with an insistence that the sub-genre could be something beautiful have made them the forerunners of modern progressive death metal. In the horde of imitators that now ape their every move, it can be hard to find music worth listening to over its muses, but perhaps it’s the struggle that makes it all the more pleasing when you find something worth sharing. Enter Erebor with Infinitus Somnium.

Eschewing the much more technical stylings of Inherent Malevolence, their debut release, Infinitus Somnium, or an infinite dream in Latin, sees Erebor honing their skills in longform composition. Made up of a single three-part track that comprises its entire forty-three minute runtime, this album is an exercise in tension and release. Across it, one is equally likely to hear a reverb-laden clean guitar ringing out in saccharine sadness as they are to hear a blistering solo or torrential blast beat. In fact, the tracks are more akin to post-metal in structure, with their meticulous buildups and decidedly epic climaxes, albeit with a clearly prog death texture. In my first listens, I struggled to work my way through a few of the more intense transitions, but as I became more familiar with the album, they went down easier and I now enjoy basically every moment.

The majority of the enjoyment I gleaned from Infinitus Somnium came from subtle ease and sway of tension between the guitar and drum parts to create spectacle. Take for instance, the rapid fire riffage and ensuing hailstorm of blast beats that begins the first heavy section of “The Endeavor.” The guitars alter their accent patterns to emphasize different parts of the drumbeat as the entire riff evolves into increasingly epic versions of itself, speaking to both the band’s compositional chops and their commitment to grandeur. And it’s that same commitment that makes dozens of moments across the album so engaging. From the actually hilarious drum fill that kicks “The Tower” into gear to the delightfully melodic and tastefully shreddy solos scattered across Infinitus Somnium, there is hardly a time while listening that I’m not smiling in the joy of prog death done well.

With its extended compositions and panoramic soundscapes, Infinitus Somnium demands comparisons to Ne Obliviscaris. The drumming across the album is wrought with the double bass heavy stylings of Dan Presland, and moments like the blooming chords around the middle of “The Endeavor” or the monumental climax of “The Apotheosis” sound as though Erebor’s guitarists may have a tape recorder hidden somewhere in NeO’s practice room. Erebor are clearly big fans of the death metallers from down under, and they wear their influences on their sleeve. 

Still, when you pit yourself up against one of the greats, you aren’t getting out of it scot-free. In a stat by stat comparison to NeO, Erebor holds its own except for in one category: the bass. Don’t get me wrong, Infinitus Somnium has plenty of bass sound—in fact, the mix in general is quite good—but the bass parts are just not that exciting. They weave their way through the drum and guitar parts like a corn snake through a field… and that’s all it does. On an album where every other instrument is free to explore the peaks of its potential, I expected one or two standout bass moments and never found them. Speaking of expectations, another element that Erebor lacks in respect to most other progressive death metal bands of this style is clean vocals, and their absence is noticeable. Many of the extended clean guitar sections throughout the album sound as though they were written around a lead melody, but nothing ever appears. There are a few intimate solos, and violin rears its head for a few seconds in “The Tower,” but the issue remains apparent as chords ring out and the drums chill out for a few seconds to support something that just never happens. Cleans very well may not be in the cards for Erebor, but they need to find something to fill the gaps in the softer moments. Bass perhaps? Thankfully, the harshes are totally serviceable and just varied enough to keep the sections where they are employed engaging.

Coming from a band that just switched from technical to progressive death metal and employing the ever risky album structure of one long song, Infinitus Somnium is an album that surprised me with how much I enjoyed it. While it doesn’t reach the same euphoric highs of the bands it imitates, it gets damn close, and I find myself wanting more in this long-form compositional style from Erebor. Who knows? With Xen out of band, any subsequent Erebor album may be the next best thing in the absence of Ne Obliviscaris.

Recommended tracks: The whole thing. It’s one long song.
You may also like: An Abstract Illusion, Serein, Tomarum, Citadel, Iapetus
Final verdict: 7.5/10

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

Label: independent

Erebor is:
– Will Unwin (bass)
– Tom Unwin (drums)
– Mia Bennet (guitars)
– Jordan Giles (guitars, vocals)
– Valentine Rodriguez (vocals)

The post Review: Erebor – Infinitus Somnium appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: progressive death metal, melodic death metal (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Alkaloid, Opeth, Blood Incantation, Persefone
Country: Michigan, United States
Release date: 13 June 2025

You see the over-saturated artwork and read the utterly inane band name. You think to yourself, “Here we go with another over-ambitious sci-fi themed zany djent solo-project.” Oh how wrong you are. The Biscuit Merchant isn’t a djent band but rather a one-man prog death project from Ann Arbor, Michigan, and Tempora marks his tenth full-length release since debuting in 2017. From the name to the spacefaring artwork, there’s an air of tongue-in-cheek ambition, but beneath the surface is a sincere and sprawling attempt at progressive death metal.

Despite being most easily categorized as progressive (and melodic) death metal, the fusion of genres that The Biscuit Merchant utilizes on Tempora feels a lot more like a tour of the metal scene at large. For every head-bang inducing chugger of a riff (“Victorious” and “Tempora”) there’s a galloping, power-metal tinged melody (“Kill Time” and “Amidakuji”) or a wah-laden, classic rock infused solo (“Uncommon Enemies” and “Judgement Day”). The eclectic fusion of genres ends up sounding something like Alkaloid meets Xoth meets Opeth, but the gravitational force holding Tempora’s disparate influences together is its vocal performance. Both clean and harsh, the vocals give each track a catchy edge that goes great lengths in making the album feel cohesive, despite never employing any overtly technical or flashy techniques. Unfortunately, for as much effort as the vocals put towards making the album’s vast scope cohesive, the song structures do the opposite.

The eight tracks that make up Tempora fall into two categories: those that roughly follow a traditional song structure and those that don’t. My issue lies with the latter. Tracks like “Kill Time” and “Celestial Awakening” each make use of a through-composed structure that falls apart in the songs’ back halves. Riffs are thrown at the listener, and not one seems to follow logically from what came before or flow smoothly into what comes after. This style can be done well—look no farther than BTBAM or last year’s critical darling Blood Incantation’s Absolute Elsewhere—but its execution here is too haphazard. The structures of the album’s two longest tracks, “Judgement Day” and “Tempora,” are equally hairy, with the title track finale featuring an entirely unprecedented three-minute surf rock segment that almost made me quit the album entirely. Ideally, a through-composed track has some sort of arc that allows the listener to form expectations about what will come next, and the best bands know when to conform to and when to subvert those expectations. The Biscuit Merchant leans far too heavily on subversion.

Thankfully, when The Biscuit Merchant employs a traditional song structure like on “Victorious” (a shameless rip-off of Opeth’s “Master’s Apprentices”) and “Uncommon Enemies,” The Merchant delivers solid and easily enjoyed bits of progressive death metal. While the instrumental “Amidakuji” goes a bit up its own ass with the number of solos and the intro track “Temporal Delusion” is just an intro track, they too are solid cuts that don’t crumble under unwieldy song structures. Noticeably, these are the four shortest tracks on the album, leaving the vast majority of the record to suffer The Biscuit Merchant’s songwriting woes.

Tempora is certainly an ambitious record, and adventurous metalheads may find individual moments worth dissecting. But for all its energy and genre splicing, Tempora lacks the compositional maturity to tie its parts into a compelling whole. Hopefully, The Biscuit Merchant lets his goods spend a few extra minutes in the oven from here on out.

Recommended tracks: Victorious, Amidakuji, Uncommon Enemies
You may also like: Resuscitate, Xoth, Witch Ripper
Final verdict: 5/10

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

Label: independent

The Biscuit Merchant is:
– Justin Lawnchair (everything)

The post Review: The Biscuit Merchant – Tempora appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: progressive death metal (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Fit For an Autopsy, Black Crown Initiate, Fallujah, Gojira
Country: Pennsylvania, United States
Release date: 30 May 2025

When Mastodon formed at the turn of the century, just as the dust from the Y2K non-apocalypse was settling, they had a revolutionary idea that drove the band’s first four albums. Themed around the classical elements of fire, water, earth, and air, Mastodon’s Remission, Leviathan, Blood Mountain, and Crack the Skye each defined tenets of modern metal that remain in place to this day. But when the time came for Mastodon to release their fifth album, the band found itself at an impasse, stuck between the monumental weight of their rise to success and the barrelling momentum of the conceptual opuses they had released. As a result, The Hunter feels stunted, and while it is still enjoyable, there’s no denying it’s a less inspired record than anything that came before it. 

After a few late-aughts deathcore-laden EPs that bore mere hints of their progressive tendencies to come, Rivers of Nihil chose to begin a conceptual album cycle of their own, themed around the four seasons. Spring came with The Conscious Seed of Light, and Monarchy reigned over the summer; Autumn brought the massively successful Where Owls Know My Name, the first album where the band’s progressive elements eclipsed the death metal elements. And finally came winter’s The Work, an album that may well have cost the band as many fans as it gained.

After lineup changes that inevitably altered the band’s core sound and following an album as divisive as The Work, Rivers of Nihil found themselves at an impasse. Like Mastodon before them, Rivers of Nihil’s conceptual cycle brought them acclaim, but also left them at a creative crossroads. With their backs seemingly against the wall, Rivers of Nihil boldly chose to release a self-titled album. So does Rivers of Nihil properly establish the band’s shiny, new identity? Let’s see.

Despite changes in the roster, Rivers of Nihil still sounds more or less like a Rivers of Nihil album; go figure. The band still plays their forward-thinking version of death metal replete with all of the bells and whistles that earn them the “progressive” moniker; along with the chuggy-as-ever riffage and ceaseless bits of synth/spacey guitar ambience that give the tracks their real melodic content, one can catch bits of electronic drum beats spliced in with the acoustic drums, layers of acoustic guitars and banjo, and of course the saxophone. Rivers of Nihil dramatically popularized the saxophone in death metal trend with Where Owls Know My Name, and they keep it up here, integrating sax into choruses on “The Sub-Orbital Blues,” employing it for transitional elements on “Despair Church,” or giving it outright solos on “House of Light.” The saxophone may be a gimmick, but it’s one the band has fully committed to, and it has become a genuine part of their sonic identity.

Rivers of Nihil has never been known to stay in one place for too long and has consistently evolved their sound across albums. There is no denying, however, that their evolutionary trend has steadily been arcing closer to the mainstream. Every track has a clean chorus, and while most flow smoothly, I can’t help but feel that the choruses in “Dustman” and “American Death” were shoehorned in to meet some sort of clean vocal quota and not because the tracks warranted a chorus. And “chorus” is certainly the right word as Rivers of Nihil abandons the unconventional structures that made their previous two albums so compelling, opting instead for more familiar verse-chorus patterns. This clear embracing of the mainstream in conjunction with a self-titled album almost makes me think that Rivers of Nihil saw the conflicted reception that came with the more progressive nature of The Work and chose to redefine themselves by moving in the opposite direction.

Rivers of Nihil remains a band primarily driven by its vocals, as chugs can only carry you so far; Adam Biggs and Andy Thomas have risen to the occasion. Biggs had performed backing vocals for the band since at least WOKMN, but really comes into his own on Rivers of Nihil. He’s expanded his repertoire beyond his signature blackened highs with a powerful and unhinged low end growl that calls to mind James Dorton or Frank Albanese of Hath, particularly on tracks like “Water & Time” or “Rivers of Nihil” where Biggs slips in and out of deep gutturals and a raw semi-clean bellow. Andy Thomas had already proven his vocal chops in his work with Black Crown Initiate, but his cleans on Rivers of Nihil may be his best outing yet. The choruses on “House of Light” and “Despair Church” especially are powerful anthems that I can’t help but sing along to.

Despite the career-defining performances on display from Biggs and Thomas during the sing-along choruses, I find myself reeling at the actual lyrical content when I stop singing and start reading. Overall, the lyrics are a lot more literal and topical than I tend to enjoy in my metal, and there are a few moments that dip into actual cringe. Don’t get me wrong. I agree that the partisan divide is an issue in America, but “Don’t believe a word you say / Do you think you’re better than me? / I’m Kaczynski, Capone and Kennedy / I’m the goddamn American dream // Who is right? / And what is left? / There’s only American death” is just too on the nose. Blessedly, the band chose to not include the single “Hellbirds” on the album, or I’d be lamenting lyrics about priests and pastors being “pricks that rape babies.” At times, Rivers comes off more like a left-wing Five Finger Death Punch, and the jury’s still out on the left-wing part.

There’s no denying that this is a new chapter for Rivers of Nihil; while the music still sounds like the band I know and love in most aspects, the new mainstream ethos of the band leaves the record feeling artistically hollow, despite how much I may enjoy singing along. Combined with the often cringy lyrics and occasional forced chorus, I fear that this shift in sound removes the dark and introspective aspects that I loved from previous albums. It’s a shame that Rivers of Nihil didn’t see the success that they may have hoped for with The Work, but I would have much preferred for this record to have been a refinement of that more progressive sound than a rejection of it.

Regardless, the message behind a self-titled album is clear: this is the shape of Rivers of Nihil to come, and I’m sure that the album will see the band climb to new heights of success. Still, I think of Mastodon, and I can only see this as Rivers of Nihil’s version of The Hunter, a valiant attempt at branching out after a conceptual album cycle but an album that ultimately pales in comparison to its predecessors. If this is truly to be Rivers of Nihil’s version of The Hunter, then I’ll be patiently waiting for a return to form a la Emperor of Sand.

Recommended tracks: Despair Church, Water & Time, House of Light
You may also like: new Warforged, Allegaeon, Subterranean Lava Dragon, Vermillion Dawn
Final verdict: 6/10

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

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

Rivers of Nihil is:
– Andy Thomas (guitars, vocals)
– Adam Biggs (bass, vocals)
– Jared Klein (drums)
– Brody Uttley (guitars)

The post Review: Rivers of Nihil – Rivers of Nihil appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: deathgaze, progressive death metal, technical death metal (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Fallujah, Rivers of Nihil, Devin Townsend, Ne Obliviscaris
Country: Arizona, United States
Release date: 25 April 2025

I’ve been a regular listener of Kardashev since discovering The Almanac back in 2018, when my taste for progressive death metal was still in its fetal stage. The band’s unique blend of deathcore-adjacent breakdowns and effervescent atmospherics that they dubbed “deathgaze” was something new to my ears, and in the time since that release I’ve yet to hear another group achieve a mixture quite so potent. Since that landmark EP, Kardashev has been busy, releasing The Baring of Shadows in 2020 and Liminal Rite in 2022—the latter of which, especially the track “Compost Grave-Song,” became a mainstay in my listening. Now, Kardashev returns with Alunea, a supposed sequel to The Almanac. Do the Arizonans deliver the goods, or is Alunea a deathgaze dud?

If there’s one thing you can always trust Kardashev to nail, it’s their atmosphere. Thanks to the band’s combination of cinematic riffage, heavy-handed production, and the seemingly endless array of guttural techniques at the disposal of vocalist Mark Garrett, each build-up feels like an event. From the symphonic-tinged intro of “A Precipice. A Door.” that begins the album to the reverb and delay-laden climaxes of tracks like “Reunion” and “Below Sun & Soil,” the album delivers frisson-inducing peak after peak. While this is standard fare for any Kardashev release, Alunea continues the trend that began on Liminal Rite and sees the band add even more  technical death metal elements to their already vast sonic territory. Tracks like “Truth to Form” and “We Could Fold the Stars” each have moments that wouldn’t sound out of place on a Fallujah record, and these moments go a long way in diversifying the album’s pacing.

Within the context of progressive death metal, and especially compared to its predecessor Liminal Rite, Alunea is a lean record. Clocking in at forty-two minutes, the album forgoes the genre-typical trappings of atmospheric track transitions and lengthy intro buildups, instead getting right to the meat of each track with next to no downtime. In fact, the only transitional element to be found occurs at the end of “Truth to Form,” but even that only serves to amplify the pounding intro of follow-up track “Edge of Forever.” This no-frills approach is a double-edged sword for Alunea, as I find myself engaging with each new track but struggling to engage with the album’s concept or get invested in the album’s flow. For any normal metal release, this would scarcely be criticism, but I can’t help but want a little more concept in a sequel to a conceptual progressive death metal EP from a band as consistent as Kardashev.

Unfortunately, like many of the inter-track transitions, many of the transitions found within individual tracks on this album are too jarring for me to reconcile as a listener, even after multiple listens. While the reasons for my distaste are undoubtedly multitudinous, I can’t help but see one primary culprit: Mark Garrett’s vocals are too varied. That may seem ridiculous, but before you call bullshit, listen to any track off this album and count how many distinct guttural and clean vocal timbres hit your ears; you’ll need two hands at least. This is almost certainly due to a combination of Kardashev‘s beginnings as a pure deathcore act and the recent push from -core adjacent bands towards what has come to be known as “vocal olympics.” (Thank you, Lorna Shore!) The end result is the same as if the guitarists were dancing on their pedalboard for the entire track, constantly switching distortion sounds in what seems to be the middle of a riff. It’s that kind of thing that once you hear it, cannot be unheard.

If you are already a fan of Kardashev, you will like Alunea; I know I do. But I don’t see this album converting too many new fans. Where Kardashev’s previous releases were just as heavy and atmospheric as Alunea, they also had a much more coherent vibe. I understand that some may have called those previous releases bloated, but Alunea is an overcorrection in my eyes. In trimming the fat, Kardashev may have lost a bit of their soul. Here’s to hoping that this is just a blip in their discography and that the Arizonans once again find their footing on the next release.

Recommended tracks: Reunion, Seed of the Night
You may also like: An Abstract Illusion, Slice the Cake, Iotunn, Caelestra
Final verdict: 7/10

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

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

Kardashev is:
– Nico Mirolla (guitars)
– Mark Garrett (vocals)
– Alex Rieth (bass)
– Sean Lang (drums)
With guests:
– Erin Dawson (vocals)
– Pawel JJ Przybysz (duduk)

The post Review: Kardashev – Alunea appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: post-punk, baroque pop (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: The Beatles, Black Midi, Keller Williams, Steve Reich, Love, The Beach Boys, The Smile
Country: United Kingdom
Release date: 4 April 2025

Black Country, New Road’s last studio album Ants from Up There was something of a musical epiphany for me. After years of my music taste trending towards the obscure and impenetrable, I found myself a staunch death metal elitist. Draped in my camo cargo shorts and faded band tees, I’d turn my nose up at any album that didn’t have, by my estimation, the proper amount of blast beats, breakdowns, and harsh vocals. It didn’t matter how well composed or beautiful a piece of music was; all that mattered was whether the music fit into the increasingly narrow definition that I needed it to so as to appease my elitist nature. In all honesty, I think it was a sense of elitism that drove me to write here at The Progressive Subway in the first place, but there’s no quicker way to kill a metal elitist attitude than to expose it to truly great non-metal music. In talking to my fellow writers, I was quickly shown just how wrong I was about metal’s place on the musical throne. Slowly but surely, melody and levity crept their way back into my music taste, and it was then that I found Black Country, New Road.

I discovered Ants from Up There a few months after its release, and I was immediately enraptured by its delicacy. Isaac Wood’s vulnerable timbre, the two-pronged chamber folk/pop attack of violin and saxophone, and the post-punk laden guitar and bass riffs created a mixture entirely foreign to me, and I quaffed it down like a desert-bound traveler in an oasis. While tracks like “Concorde” and “The Place Where He Inserted the Blade” merely got stuck in my head, longer cuts “Snow Globes” and “Basketball Shoes” imprinted themselves upon my musical DNA, like drops of blood in water, once released, inextricable. I was a fanatic, and like a fanatic, I researched the source of my fascination. As any BCNR fan now knows, I learned of how Isaac Wood left the band mere days before the album’s release, and thus my worshipping only grew more devout; after all, the best way to make something seem legendary is to ensure it can never be recreated.

Having never toured in support of their newest album, BCNR announced that they would not be looking for a new vocalist, and that vocal duties would instead be split amongst the band’s six other members. I was skeptical of this approach—after all, Isaac Wood, at least in my estimation, was the beating and bleeding heart that made Ants from Up There so visceral. But I’ll be the first to admit that BCNR truly surprised me with 2023’s Live at Bush Hall. Despite coming across more like a playlist than a cohesive album, with each track’s vocals being taken by a different member of the band, Live at Bush Hall showed that Black Country, New Road could in fact exist, at least in some form, without Isaac as frontman. Since then, two years have passed, and BCNR has been hard at work. This time a bona fide studio album was the result; its name is Forever Howlong.

Vocal and songwriting duties have been split between the band’s three female members Tyler Hyde, Georgia Ellery, and May Kershaw, and immediately Forever Howlong distinguishes itself from its forerunners. Where Ants from Up There featured a distinctly masculine perspective, not just in the sense of Isaac’s vocals but in his choice of lyrical content, and where Live at Bush Hall seemed to thrive on the juxtaposition between the masculine and feminine perspectives, Forever Howlong narrows in on the feminine. In tracks like “Mary” and “Nancy Tries to Take the Night,” we see our heroines struggle against the trappings of domesticity and rebel when the opportunities arise. But in tracks like “Two Horses” and “For the Cold Country,” we see our same¹ heroines, struggling to get by on their own. This fuzziness of conviction can be found everywhere on the album, from the lyrics and instrumentals to the album’s overall flow.

Instrumentally, Forever Howlong continues to chart the depths of post-punky baroque pop that BCNR has plumbed across its discography. However, Forever Howlong differs from its predecessors primarily in its lack of set piece instrumental sections. The closest we ever get to such a moment is the drone work on “For the Cold Country” and the ostinato work on “Nancy Tries to Take the Night,” but even those moments feel as though they are in service to the vocals. In fact, Forever Howlong is more vocally driven than any other BCNR release. Tracks like “Socks” rely exclusively on vocals as propellant and slide dangerously close to stagnant as the vocals slip tastefully in and out of tune, while other cuts like the title track follow the vocals more literally with bits of diegetic silence. 

Such a strong focus on driving vocals can only succeed when the production is top-notch, and Forever Howlong has that department more than covered. BCNR has never had any production issues, but this new album blows their previous output out of the water. Layers come and go like tissue paper and gossamer, yet in conjunction they become full and succulent. Even as the vocals come in at barely a whisper, there can be heard tinkling piano, noodling sax, and tasteful tom fills, each adding their own frisson-inducing texture. Like any great art pop, this is an album best enjoyed with your fullest attention as each note rings out crystal clear.

The only hangup I have with Forever Howlong is its flow. Each track leading up to the double whammy of “For the Cold Country” and “Nancy Tries to Take the Night” feels like a piece in a carefully constructed staircase of intensity that ultimately climaxes in glorious splendor, and then there’s two tracks that come after. On their own, the title track and “Goodbye (Don’t Tell Me)” are perfectly fine, both continuing the trend of tasteful and delicate art pop that defined the album’s front half, but when viewing them as part of Forever Howlong I can’t help but see them as outliers of an otherwise well defined rising trendline. The real issue here is that I don’t think a simple rearrangement of tracks would have fixed this; had the final two tracks instead been somewhere in the album’s front half, I’d probably instead be complaining that the album was a bit samey with the only major impacts occurring in its final few tracks, and simply removing tracks never feels like a satisfying solution in an already lean album. I understand that not all albums need to climax on their final track, but it is far and away my preference when it comes to album flow. At the end of the day though, this is a minor gripe, and maybe I’ll come to enjoy the two closing tracks with time.

The more I sit and listen to Forever Howlong, and the more I try to compare it to Ants from Up There, the more I realize what a fruitless endeavor that is. Where Live from Bush Hall seemed to be defined by the absence of Isaac Wood, Forever Howlong is its own invention, and in its delicate nooks and crannies, it forges a new identity for Black Country, New Road. As someone who once shut out entire genres in favor of brutality and extremity, it’s albums like these that make me glad I’ve changed my ways. While Forever Howlong may not reach the same mythical heights as Ants from Up There, it carves a new space entirely—one softer, stranger, and equally beautiful.

Recommended tracks: Two Horses, For the Cold Country, Nancy Tries to Take the Night
You may also like: Eunuchs, The Orchestra (For Now), Maruja
Final verdict: 8/10

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

Label: Ninja Tune – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Black Country, New Road is:
– Tyler Hyde (bass, lead vocals)
– Lewis Evans (saxophone, flute, backing vocals)
– Georgia Ellery (violin, mandolin, guitars, backing and lead vocals)
– May Kershaw (keyboards, piano, accordion, backing and lead vocals)
– Charlie Wayne (drums, percussion, banjo, backing vocals)
– Luke Mark (guitars, backing vocals)

1. It’s unclear whether this album is conceptual. BCNR has always toed that line. ︎

The post Review: Black Country, New Road – Forever Howlong appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: avant-garde black metal, hardcore (mostly harsh vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Ὁπλίτης, Car Bomb, Blut Aus Nord, Plebeian Grandstand, Frontierer
Country: China
Release date: 7 March 2025

What is it with one-man avant-garde metal acts and creating new pseudonyms for seemingly every release? Well I have a theory: in the metal underground obscurity is gold, and there’s nothing worse than being perceived as even somewhat successful or popular. A band may manage to put out a few albums before they get noticed—say, to have more than 1,000 monthly listeners—but once enough quality music is released it’s only a matter of time until success comes beating down your door. For any mysterious avant-garde auteur of black metal mayhem, success may as well be the grim reaper. So when multi-instrumentalist J.L.’s Ὁπλίτης—that’s Hoplite(s) if you aren’t in the know—saw success with last year’s Παραμαινομένη, it was all but guaranteed that J.L. would reemerge underneath a new and unknown moniker; enter Smiqra with Rɡyaɡ̇dźé!.

Picking up right where Παραμαινομένη left off, Rɡyaɡ̇dźé! relentlessly pounds the listener with a bristling intensity unmatched by any pure black metal or hardcore act and finds in the combination of its muses unplumbed caverns of sonic exploration. Gone is the mysticism that gave Παραμαινομένη its subtle edge, and in its place is an explosive fury. Drums take center stage, discontent to ever sit in one place for more than a few seconds and constantly shifting tactus and tempo in a similar manner to fellow hardcore-tinged metallers Car Bomb. Done less tactfully, such a persistent style of metal could grow tiresome, but Smiqra is too quick on its feet for me to ever get bored of any singular riff. 

To further spice up its already overflowing pot of influences, Smiqra adds elements of jazz in the form of frenetic saxophone and synthesizer solos and breakcore with a few entirely too short moments of amen break sampling. It’s clear that even though J.L. is producing avant-garde black metal, he isn’t afraid to infuse a little lightheartedness into the mix. This sort of unabashed creative expression keeps the album fresh, particularly as it extends into its back half and starts drawing up old motifs.

The highlight of Rɡyaɡ̇dźé! is undoubtedly the seamless multi-track epic (although this could really be used to describe the entire album) that begins with “Imaginary Minotaurian academia” and ends with the ten-minute closer “qa-si-re-u!”. The epic sees Smiqra pave its way from hypnotic tribal rhythms replete with vocal ostinatos bound to get stuck in your head (“Is music for oxen?”) to meaty djent breakdowns that offer a sublime release from the album’s relentless attack. Because the individual tracks are so quick, never handling an idea for more than a few moments, and because most tracks seamlessly transition into the next, it’s easy to get washed away in the deluge of sound and ride Rɡyaɡ̇dźé! all the way to the bottom.

While a relentless approach served Rɡyaɡ̇dźé! well for its songwriting, the same approach was applied to its production to varying effect. Put simply, this album is loud, and the drums are the culprit. Each drum hit is pushed to the edge of distortion, to the point that it feels like you’re the one playing the drums, each strike rattling your very own bones. When other instruments join the fray, they have to compete with the percussion, and everything gets louder as a result. On one hand, this makes the album feel more real, and it may be a truer realization of J.L.’s artistic vision. But on the other hand, I can’t help but wonder how much more listenable the album could have been had it let off the gas. Perhaps it’s trite to lob production complaints at one-man black metal acts, but I truly feel a subtler hand on the gain knob could have gone a long way in increasing Rɡyaɡ̇dźé!’s listenability.

If J.L.’s plan is to remain obscure, releasing albums as good as Rɡyaɡ̇dźé! is certainly not the way to do it. While it doesn’t have the same mystic quality that made me really fall in love with Παραμαινομένη, Rɡyaɡ̇dźé!’s raw intensity is equally enticing and all but ensures that the album will continue to be remembered in J.L.’s ever-growing discography.

Recommended tracks: qa-si-re-u!
You may also like: Artificial Brain, Thantifaxath, Dodecahedron, Hebephrenique, Jute Gyte, Serpent Column, Red Rot, A.M.E.N., Theophonos
Final verdict: 8/10

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

Label: independent

Smiqra is:
– J.L. (everything)

The post Review: Smiqra – Rɡyaɡ̇dźé! appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: dissonant death metal, black metal, electronica (harsh vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Ulcerate, Gorguts, Morbid Angel, Gojira
Country: Arizona, United States
Release date: 28 February 2025

In my mind, the main feature (other than quality) that separates one dissonant death metal release from another is headiness. Some bands like Replicant are content to stay low to the earth, punishing any who come near with raw brutality, while others leave their earthly constraints and instead push dissodeath towards the cerebral; see Pyrrhon and Scarcity. In the middle, you get bands like Ulcerate and Convulsing that infuse elements from across the spectrum into their sound to create music equally confounding as it is crushing, and this alluring middle ground is where Light Dweller’s The Subjugate falls.

Stylistically, Light Dweller employs a shade of dissonant death metal on The Subjugate most similar to that of Convulsing’s masterful Perdurance from last year. Uniquely contrapuntal riffs weave in and upon themselves as the interminable drumming blasts away atop a bed of cacophonous atmospherics, but—like all the dissodeath I love—the album maintains a devotion to the mighty riff. From the harmonious guitar work of the opening track that sounds as though entirely different songs are playing from the left and right channels, to the tasteful ebb and flow of the breakdowns on songs like “Cessation of Time” and the Tool-like percussive riffage on tracks like “Fracturing Light” and “Passing Through the Veil,” there’s no shortage of unique and creative riffs on The Subjugate. In general, the riffs here feel more groove oriented, as if Morbid Angel’s sound never stopped evolving, and when Alex Haddad (Dessiderium, Arkaik) lends the album his tasteful lead work, the songs take on an even more technical edge. Even as the tracks venture into the realms of electronica with synthesized drum beats, haunting flute, and brainy synths, there’s always a killer riff waiting in the wings to bring it all back home to a familiar death metal base.

The balance between The Subjugate’s degenerate and cerebral qualities is what allows the album to truly shine. In fact, The Subjugate achieves an emulsification of metal subgenres here more successfully than any death metal act in recent memory, and I find my attention only broken by the unfortunately common additions of electronic drumming. There are certainly gaps in my electronic knowledge that keep me from fully contextualizing the ideas the album puts forth, but the manner in which the electronic drums never seemed to settle into a steady beat made each moment they appeared feel somewhat meandering, as if lacking a goal to push towards. There are a few moments like the spliced buildup of the intro of “Fracturing Light” that push the album towards a more cogent fusion of death metal and electronica, but these moments don’t outshine my distaste for the electronic drums as a whole.

Blessedly, the somewhat poor integration of the electronic elements into The Subjugate’s sound allows me to look past them and simply enjoy the dissodeath that the album has on offer, and it is really stellar stuff. I constantly find myself headbanging to every track, and by the time this rather lean album finishes up, I instantly feel the urge to spin it again, chasing those giddy glimpses into the album’s unfathomable riffage. As a fellow acolyte of the mighty riff, it truly warms my heart to see a band taking the riff heritage of bands like MorbidAngel—or Gojira for a more modern reference—and pushing it into the future. One inverted power chord and pick scrape at a time, Light Dweller, along with bands like Convulsing, Replicant, and Wormhole, are pushing metal riffing into the future, and there’s no telling where they may end up. Thankfully, we have The Subjugate as a stepping stone to help us along the way.

Recommended tracks: Adrift the Expanding Nothingness, Fracturing Light, Cessation of Time
You may also like: Convulsing, Warforged, Replicant, Sacrificial Vein, Luminous Vault, Artificial Brain
Final verdict: 7.5/10

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

Label: Unorthodox Emanations of Avantgarde Music – Bandcamp | Facebook

Light Dweller is:
– Cameron Boesch (everything)

The post Review: Light Dweller – The Subjugate appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: progressive death metal, blackened death metal, deathgaze (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Kardashev, Fallujah, Ne Obliviscaris
Country: California, United States
Release date: 7 March 2025

Allow me to begin this review with an apology. When I reviewed Dawn of Ouroboros’s last output Velvet Incandescence back in 2023, I gave it a 4/10, and that score remains the most egregious underrating of any review I’ve written for The Progressive Subway. I think I was just disappointed with how their sophomore output stacked up against their debut, but with some time between my review and subsequent listens, I ended up finding Velvet Incandescence an actually decent album; sure the production had its fair share of flaws and the compositions could have been a bit more elegant, but the album had an array of melodic hooks that held my attention through my extensive listens. So when I saw another release from Dawn of Ouroboros, I knew it could be a twofold chance for redemption: a chance for the band at a higher score and a chance for me to write a review that does their album justice. So how does Bioluminescence fare?

From the first notes of the title track and opener, one thing is clear—and it’s the production. Dissonant guitar riffage rings out as a wicked blast beat constantly shifts in and about itself and walls of ambient reverb wash over the listener, but nothing gets lost to my ears. When Chelsea Murphy’s harsh vocals enter, they too are crystal clear, adding a crisp heaviness to the cathartic fretwork. The production especially stands out on tracks like “Poseidon’s Hymn” and “Dueling Sunsets” where electronic and symphonic elements join the fray without once getting muddy; tambourine even gets thrown in there once or twice. If I were to change just one thing about this album’s mix and master, I’d have simply widened its dynamic range. For an album that vacillates between such delicate and bludgeoning moments, it shouldn’t be limited to such a small range of volumes. Still, Bioluminescence alleviates my biggest criticism of its predecessor within just a few notes.

Musically, Bioluminescence sits in a similar space to Velvet Incandescence with its deathgaze sound, to use a term coined by Kardashev. And Kardashev remains one of the most apt comparisons for Dawn of Ouroboros thanks to the band’s consistently propulsive drumming, atmosphere-focused guitarwork, and duality of harsh and clean vocals. When individual elements do rise from the core sound, like during the solos on “Nebulae,” the moment is memorable but nothing to write home about. Bioluminescence is music focused on atmosphere, not technicality, and its appeal is in its texture and tension.

In nearly all aspects, Bioluminescence is leaps and bounds ahead of its predecessor, but it does fall into one familiar trapping: the clean vocals are poorly enunciated to the point of comedy, and the track “Slipping Burgundy” is the worst offender by far. As soon as one presses play, they are bombarded by a perversion of the English language as every vowel shape becomes some form of “ah” or “uh” regardless of the word. I’ve seen memes making fun of indie vocalists by calling their unique inflections “singing in cursive,” but if an indie vocalist sings in cursive, Murphy sings in hieroglyphics. I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt; maybe she needed an emergency root canal the same day that they’d booked the studio for vocal sessions, or maybe Murphy is the namesake Ouroboros attempting to sing around the tail in her mouth. Regardless, the cleans take songs like “Slipping Burgundy” and the title track and render what could have been impactful moments into unadulterated comedy. What’s even more confounding is that Murphy does occasionally deliver well enunciated cleans, like towards the end of “Dueling Sunsets” where her belts in conjunction with the song’s climax create an album highlight. Blessedly, Bioluminescence contains just little enough of Murphy’s strange cleans for me to still give this a positive score in good conscience. 

For an album where no individual element stands out, the compositions and production must do the heavy lifting, and Dawn of Ouroboros has delivered the goods in those departments. I do struggle to recall more than a few key moments even after my several listens, but I fear that’s more of a failing of “deathgaze” than it is of Dawn of Ouroboros as a band. If you’re a fan of Fallujah and Kardashev, I fully recommend Bioluminescence; and Chelsea Murphy, if you’re reading this, sorry for the jokes.

Recommended tracks: Dueling Sunsets, Bioluminescence
You may also like: Dessiderium, Serein, Vintersea, Caelestra
Final verdict: 6.5/10

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

Label: Prosthetic Records – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Dawn of Ouroboros is:
– Tony Thomas (guitars, keyboards)
– Chelsea Murphy (vocals)
– Ian Baker (guitars)
– Chris Stropoli (drums)

The post Review: Dawn of Ouroboros – Bioluminescence appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: groove metal, metalcore, djent (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Avenged Sevenfold, Spiritbox, Gojira, Lamb of God, Meshuggah
Country: Ukraine
Release date: 7 February 2025

Is groove metal a real genre? Some people make the claim, but I’m not so sure. Google may say it’s a genre defined by chugging, palm muted guitarwork with extensive use of double bass pedals and downtuned guitars, but does that not describe the entirety of modern metal? And if something isn’t groove metal does it mean it can’t be groovy? For something seemingly so ubiquitous, there really is no clear or satisfying definition, and it’s almost certainly easier to just identify groove metal releases as they come up. Thankfully, Jinjer makes it easy for us on their latest release Duél.

For any groove-based genre, a strong rhythm section is paramount. Thankfully, after honing their sound on 2019’s Macro and 2021’s Wallflowers, bassist Eugene Abdukhanov and drummer “Vladi” Ulasevich have delivered what is undoubtedly the best performances of their career on Duél, leaving no doubt that Jinjer has their rhythm section covered. Adventurous slaps and pops that wouldn’t sound out of place on a Job for a Cowboy track accentuate the decidedly tight drumwork in the album’s heavier moments while tasteful bass breaks and intelligent cymbal use highlight the lighter sections on tracks like “Tumbleweed.” The guitarwork courtesy of Roman Ibramkhalilov nestles neatly into the remaining sonic space, rarely adventuring out into the open but leaving its mark when it does during moments like the brief solo of “Green Serpent.”

Still, Jinjer remains a decidedly vocal-centric band, and Tatiana Shmayluk remains one of the most dynamic vocalists in the modern metal scene. Spewing catty witticisms left and right, Tatiana’s vocals run the gamut from gentle croons to harsh bellowing lows and searing highs. Romps like “Rogue” and “Fast Draw” get down and dirty with their straight ahead heaviness, while tracks like “Kafka” and “Someone’s Daughter” do well to show off Tatiana’s vocal range with their proggy yet lean song structures. Unfortunately, Duél remains plagued by what is perhaps my biggest pet peeve in regards to Jinjer, and that is the lyrical emphasis. To put it simply, it often sounds like one too many syllables are squeezed into a phrase making the whole thing feel off kilter, especially during the clean vocal sections. Perhaps it’s a symptom of a band writing in their second language, but I can’t always fully jive with the seeming lack of flow in the clean vocal patterns.

Unfortunately, that lack of flow also seeps into the track listing. At an already lean forty-three minutes and with no track exceeding five minutes, Duél is a brisk listen, but I am not so sure that each track earns its fair keep. For every “Green Serpent” or “Fast Draw” on the track list that engages the listener with its dynamic snowballing riffage or vibrant raw intensity, there’s a “Rogue” or “Dark Bile” that gets bogged down in its verse-chorus-verse song structure and overall sameness. In individual chunks, Duél is peachy keen, but the totality is a disjointed album experience full of ups and downs that leaves me satisfied in parts but ultimately miffed by the time the album’s closer rolls around, especially with its goofy false ending.

Jinjer seems to have honed in on their sound on their past few releases, and Duél sets the band’s proggy blend of groove metal and metalcore in stone. Featuring what is undoubtedly the best production treatment that the band has had yet, the album is the product of four amazingly talented musicians operating at the top of their respective craft yet getting lost in the finer details of the album as a whole. I know that Jinjer has a genuine magnum opus somewhere in their future, but it seems as though Duél is just another stepping stone along that path.

Recommended tracks: Green Serpent, Kafka, Someone’s Daughter
You may also like: Dawn of Ouroboros, Vintersea, Rannoch
Final verdict: 7/10

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

Label: Napalm Records – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Jinjer is:
– Tatiana Shmayluk (vocals)
– Roman Ibramkhalilov (guitars)
– “Vladi” Ulasevich (drums)
– Eugene Abdukhanov (bass)

The post Review: Jinjer – Duél appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: progressive death metal (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Black Crown Initiate, Allegaeon, Between the Buried and Me, Rivers of Nihil
Country: Reading, Pennsylvania, United States
Release date: 23 January 2025

What the hell is in the water in Reading, Pennsylvania? I mean, seriously, what is it? For a city with a population just under 100,000 to birth bands like Rivers of Nihil, Black Crown Initiate, and Burial in the Sky, there must be something utterly radioactive in the well. And although I haven’t found its source yet, I know that whenever I see a Reading release pop up on my radar, I’m in for some sweet, sweet prog death. Reading’s most recent output is from the newly formed Subterranean Lava Dragon, and although the band is green, its members certainly aren’t.

Composed of members of Black Crown Initiate and Minarchist, Subterranean Lava Dragon employ a version of progressive death metal on their debut The Great Architect replete with all the modern stylings made popular by bands like Rivers of Nihil and Allegaeon. Tastefully symphonic instrumentals (“The Silent Kin,” “A Question of Eris”) and BTBAM-eque astonato based builds (“The Silent Kin,” “Bleed the Throne”) give way to chunky downtuned riffs just as often as they climax into more Opethian based chord work and grooves. The rhythm section, held down by Nick Shaw’s tasty bass and programmed drums, keeps things fresh, constantly shifting underneath repetitious riffage and guttural vocals courtesy of Connor McNamee that range from gnarly lows to shrill highs a la James Dorton, if you’ll forgive yet another BCI comparison.

Subterranean Lava Dragon do take steps on The Great Architect to distinguish them from their peers. For one, the clean vocals from Ethan McKenna—their production especially—are unique for the genre. Tastefully bare, they were at first off putting in their rawness when I heard them on “The Silent Kin,” but ultimately grew to be endearing. They shine particularly during tracks like “Of Ritual Matricide” and “Bleed the Throne” where their earnestness takes center stage in epic choruses and creates lasting motifs much like Andy Thomas in BCI or Tommy Giles on BTBAM’s Coma Ecliptic.

You may have noticed that I struggle to discuss The Great Architect without referencing other seminal bands in the genre—particularly Black Crown Initiate—and I’d argue that Subterranean Lava Dragon do little to truly distinguish themselves from those before them. Moments like the symphonic interludes and the well composed build ups do well to break the norm, but we always end up returning to a very familiar and very safe progressive death metal base. Perhaps it’s unfair to disparage bands for sounding similar when they share members, but I can’t help but feel that The Great Architect marks a stagnation in the evolution that Black Crown Initiate has displayed throughout their discography; it just ends up feeling like BCI but missing mastermind Andy Thomas. I’m sure that for staunchly entrenched fans of progressive death metal, The Great Architect will deliver all you need, but I just couldn’t shake the comparison from my mind.

Still, an inferior Black Crown Initiate is superior to most, and Subterranean Lava Dragon gets a lot right on The Great Architect. From the meaty riffs and epic choruses to the satisfyingly farty bass and stellar harshes, the debut from the Reading, PA newcomers is certainly a strong effort that I hope receives the respect it deserves and encourages the band to find their own identity on future releases.

Recommended tracks: Bleed the Throne
You may also like: Alustrium, Illyria, Dissocia, Exuvial, Rannoch
Final verdict: 7/10

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

Label: Independent

Subterranean Lava Dragon is:
– Nick “Nickbass” Shaw (bass, drum programming)
– Ethan McKenna (guitars, vocals)
– Connor McNamee (vocals)

The post Review: Subterranean Lava Dragon – The Great Architect appeared first on The Progressive Subway.