“Dødsdømmt” is a strong, often compelling slice of Norwegian black metal that honors the genre’s roots while teasing at something more. It’s not a reinvention, but it’s a potent reminder of why the old ways still matter. Ulvehyrde may not have written their magnum opus yet, but they’re clearly on the path.
Lacabra offer a fresh take on Seattle metal, channeling raw power and swedish death metal energy into a solid debut album.
In a genre often criticized for stagnation, Heaven Shall Burn continue to evolve, proving that metalcore can be both intellectually stimulating and emotionally devastating. “Heimat” is not just an album, but an experience, one that lingers long after the final notes fade. It’s the kind of record that rewards repeated listens, revealing new layers with each spin.
“Hideous Aftermath” feels like being hit repeatedly with the same blunt object: oddly satisfying at first, then numbing. It’s grotesque, absurd, and loud, but behind the noise, you can hear a band circling the edges of its own exhaustion.
Solbrud’s “IIII” moves like weather over stone: slow, patient, and implacable. It doesn’t seek attention so much as endurance, trading immediacy for immersion. When it works, its vast grey landscapes feel alive and immense; when it falters, you’re left staring into the fog, waiting for something to shift.
“Fællesskab” pushes you in the liminal space where belonging turns to burden and unity to silence. It feels like standing in a crowded hall and realising no one is listening, the collective warmth dimmed to ritual and noise.
A Single Flower blooms in ruin and reflection; heavy, sprawling, and achingly beautiful in its vastness. It may lose pace sometimes, but when it connects it lingers long after the final chord fades. We Lost The Sea prove once their skill and creativity once more.
“Plague Of Cancers” pummels with buzz-saw guitar tone and groove-laden riffs, its HM-2 chainsaw buzz the core of its attack. It may tread familiar terrain, but when it hits right it still smacks like death metal born to be unleashed.
“Soma” moves like a slow tide of ash and memory, equal parts meditative and suffocating. It doesn’t always find its direction, but when it does, BÅKÜ sound like a band discovering the beauty hidden inside exhaustion.
“Embers” drifts between grief and grandeur, letting strings and exotic tones bloom over ruinous guitar swells and mournful silence. Its lengths falter occasionally, but when it catches fire it burns hotter than many peers.