Okay, so you have to listen to Into the Storm by Blind Guardian. I know, I know, it’s easy to dismiss power metal as just another fantasy genre, but trust me on this one. This track is the perfect storm of aggression and melody, and it kicks off the Nightfall in Middle-Earth album with such incredible energy that you’ll be hooked from the first riff. It’s a furious, catchy, and surprisingly deep dive into the lore of The Silmarillion, capturing the raw desperation of Morgoth and Ungoliant squabbling over the Silmarils. But seriously, don’t let the subject matter intimidate you; just let the music do its thing and you’ll be chanting along to the chorus before you know it.
The track is a masterclass in how to build intensity, but the real reason I’m writing this is to talk about the guitar solo by André Olbrich. It is, without a doubt, one of the most underrated moments in their entire catalog. If you pull up the remastered version, the solo hits right at the 2:37 mark and doesn’t let up until about 3:07. It’s a short, sharp shock of pure melodic bliss. What makes it so special is that it completely eschews the typical speed-demon shredding you might expect. Instead, it’s a soaring, beautifully constructed lead that sounds like it’s carrying the entire weight of the song’s story on its shoulders. It perfectly mirrors Hansi Kürsch’s vocal style, acting as another voice in the track to carry you forward into the chaos.
André is often listed among the greatest metal guitarists for a reason, and this solo is a prime example of his genius. He’s not interested in showing off; he’s interested in serving the song and elevating the epic feel. During those 30 seconds, his guitar weeps and soars over the frantic rhythm section, creating this incredible feeling of hope and tragedy all at once. It’s a moment of pure clarity and emotion amidst the storm, and it’s the perfect payoff to the frantic energy that came before it. It’s a piece of music that gets stuck in your head for days, and it’s a big part of why this track is such a fan favorite.
So, if you consider yourself a fan of powerful, storytelling metal or just appreciate a killer guitar solo, do yourself a favor and cue up Into the Storm. Turn it up loud, wait for that solo to hit, and let yourself get swept away. It’s a gateway into one of the most epic albums ever written, and I promise you, that brief, beautiful guitar break will be the moment that makes you understand exactly what Blind Guardian is all about.
Into the Storm
Give it to me I must have it Precious treasure I deserve it
Where can I run How can I hide The Silmarils Gems of treelight Their life belongs to me Oh it’s sweet how the Darkness is floating around
We are following The will of the one Through the dark age And into the storm And we are following The will of the one Through the dark age And into the storm Lord I’m mean
(guitar solo @2:37)
Blackheart show me What you hold in hand I still hunger for more Release me From my pain Give it to me How I need it How I need it How I need it
I did my part Now it’s your turn And remember What you’ve promised
Before getting into it, a little context: this album was my first introduction to Blind Guardian, courtesy of TSL writer necromoonyeti — the same person responsible for putting Boris on my radar. So if this review reads like someone who came in completely cold and got their face melted off, that’s because that’s exactly what happened.
Let’s get one thing straight right away: A Night at the Opera is not a casual listen. It’s not something you throw on while you’re folding laundry or zoning out on the commute home. This is the kind of album that demands you sit down, maybe pour yourself something nice, and just let it completely steamroll you for about an hour. And honestly? That’s exactly the kind of album Blind Guardian needed to make at that point in their career.
Released in 2002, A Night at the Opera is the German power metal legends’ seventh studio album, and it arrived after the already-enormous Somewhere Far Beyond and Imaginations from the Other Side had already cemented the band as giants of the genre. So naturally, Hansi Kürsch and company decided to throw the rulebook entirely out the window. The result is one of the most ambitious, over-the-top, maximalist records in the history of metal — and it rules, even when it’s utterly overwhelming.
The album opens with Precious Jerusalem, and within about thirty seconds you understand exactly what kind of ride you’ve signed up for. The layered vocals, the orchestral bombast, the sheer density of the production — it all comes crashing in like a wall of sound that somehow never feels muddy. Hansi’s voice is front and center, soaring over a choir that sounds like it’s made up of about four hundred people, and it sets the tone perfectly. This isn’t metal with some orchestral elements sprinkled on top. This is something else entirely — something almost operatic in the truest sense of the word.
From there, Battlefield kicks in with a bit more aggression and momentum, which is a welcome shift. André Olbrich and Marcus Siepen’s guitar work throughout the record is phenomenal, but Battlefield is one of the spots where the riffs really get a chance to breathe and cut through the orchestral layering. It’s not quite the straightforward power metal banger you might want it to be, but it’s driving and epic in all the right ways.
Then there’s Under the Ice, which slows things down into something that almost feels mournful. It’s one of the quieter moments on the record, but it’s deceptively powerful. Hansi’s vocal performance here is genuinely moving, and the restraint the band shows — relative to literally everything else on this album — makes it stand out in a really effective way.
If there’s a centerpiece that most people point to when discussing A Night at the Opera, it’s almost certainly And Then There Was Silence. Clocking in at nearly fifteen minutes, it is an absolute monster of a track — a prog-metal epic that tells the story of the fall of Troy through the eyes of Cassandra. Yes, really. And somehow it doesn’t feel self-indulgent. Well, okay, it does feel self-indulgent, but in the best possible way. The track builds and shifts and spirals through so many phases that by the time it reaches its climactic final stretch, you’ve completely forgotten where it started. It’s one of the most impressive things Blind Guardian have ever put to tape, and that’s saying something.
The Maiden and the Minstrel Knight is probably the most accessible thing on the record — a more traditional Blind Guardian ballad that sits comfortably alongside tracks from their earlier work. It’s a bit of a breather in the middle of all the chaos, and it’s genuinely gorgeous. The vocal harmonies are lush and warm, and it’s one of those songs that reminds you how good Hansi Kürsch is at pure melody when he wants to be.
Sadly Sings Destiny and Wait for an Answer keep the epic atmosphere rolling in the back half of the album, though they can start to feel a little dense if you’re not fully locked in. That’s perhaps the one honest criticism of A Night at the Opera— it’s a lot. The production, helmed by Charlie Bauerfeind and the band themselves, is incredibly thick. There are reportedly hundreds of vocal overdubs on some tracks, and while that creates an incredible sound, it can also make the album feel like it’s working very hard to impress you, all the time, without pause. By the time you hit the later tracks, the sheer weight of everything can start to feel a little exhausting if you’re not in the right headspace.
But then The Soulforged comes along and reminds you why you’re here. Inspired by the Dragonlance fantasy series — classic Blind Guardian territory — it’s one of the most energetic tracks on the album, and the chorus is an absolute earworm. It’s big, it’s bright, and it shows that even buried under all the orchestral grandeur, the band still knows how to write a hook that sticks with you for days.
Closing things out, Age of False Innocence and Punishment Divine bring the album home in suitably dramatic fashion. By this point, you’ve been through the full experience, and the record ends feeling genuinely complete — like a proper album with a beginning, middle, and end, rather than just a collection of songs.
So where does A Night at the Opera land in the Blind Guardian catalog? Honestly, it’s one of those records that rewards the people willing to meet it on its own terms. If you go in expecting Somewhere Far Beyond or Imaginations from the Other Side, you might come out a little shell-shocked. But if you give it the time and attention it demands, you’ll find one of the most unique and daring records in power metal history — a band swinging for the absolute fences and largely connecting. It’s not always easy listening, but it’s always worth it.
Diabolical Masquerade’s “Haunted by Horror”, from the album Nightwork (1998), feels like getting lost in a crumbling old mansion where every shadow has a story. The guitars grind and spiral while eerie melodies sneak around the corners, giving it that perfect mix of gothic drama and black metal intensity. It’s messy in the best way — like a fever dream scored by ghosts and vintage film reels.
The whole thing swings between chaos and calm, pulling from classic European horror vibes — Hammer films, giallo soundtracks, and a hint of early Lovecraft moodiness. One minute it’s a frantic chase through candlelit halls, the next it’s quiet enough to hear the walls breathe. That cinematic tension makes it feel alive, like the song itself is telling a forgotten horror tale.
What ties it together is Blakkheim’s flair for theater. He leans into the atmosphere with a wink, and you can almost picture velvet capes, fog machines, and flickering projector light behind it all. “Haunted by Horror” doesn’t just use horror for decoration; it lives in it, turning those old-school scares into something weird, stylish, and unmistakably metal.
Haunted by Horror
The shadow we forgot of the dead some tragedy I’m crush dead frays out fame it to do Path of blackness the path to mighty forest Bleaching through defeat it purr back its wallow it shay: pick turn infernal Gave it to the spat the forest lent be hide look at this sane legion we’re won’t to die Desire in latch we want it forehead and captured within for resole is side Breed on slowly doubt pride pay be frosted on dot haunted moon So I am the dead, arrow blood and thunder Make me wonder of the hate and moon clays Turn back the fault shove me with anger And revolve of the blood with hatch never be dead Fallen for reborn I am is stand in high Rising for dying dream ultimate in shade
Liu Zhenyang hit the ground running in his first year, and I have to admit I didn’t get the hype at all at first. His debut album felt a fair bit overcooked to me, and the second didn’t evolve enough to keep me listening when the third started to really make waves. I decided to give his 2024 album a fair shot when it came out though, and I was impressed by how far he’d come. At this point the initial bias has faded away and I’m very interested to see what’s next. The woodwind incorporation, if predictable for the scene, is a welcome expansion (that might have shown up by the previous album, I am unsure) and applied in more interesting ways than most. The ratio of weird experimental things to repetition has been ramped up quite a bit. It still has more filler space than I care for. I am still disproportionately interested in what he’s doing vs the way it makes me feel. The ambience doesn’t seem quite there yet. But this album has advanced Hoplite from a state of disinterest to definite curiosity. I enjoyed exploring this more than most despite limited replay value. His next album will go in the sample bin without hesitation.
To All Trains doesn’t achieve as much as Dude Incredible, but no Albini project has. The last Shellac album was simply higher level stuff few bands can muster in my estimate. This one is more humble–shorter and to the point. I listened to enough music this year that a simple “I enjoyed and remembered it” didn’t always guarantee a spot on the list. Maybe Steve dying made me sentimental, but I want to believe To All Trains got here because it’s fun. Steve’s social awareness evolved a lot over the years, but his underlying attitude was core to his being and continues to resonate here. It’s well-dressed punk. It’s tightly held together but oozes snark along the seams. It’s anti-music, and that always puts a smile on my face. I doubt Steve expected “I Don’t Fear Hell” to be the last song of his career, but it’s as fitting an end as any. Rip you were a legend.
Muuntautuja offers a clear progression from Mestarin kynsi into more industrial and electronic territories. The continuity is there, but the styles have certainly evolved. It’s a stretch to call this a metal album, and that’s fine. It ships really chill and dark vibes I have found no struggle enjoying. It doesn’t have the epic progressions and dire climaxes of its predecessor that saw that album near the top of my 2020 list. It’s a more mood-oriented work, and it offers a persistently dark one.
It’s easy for me to undersell this album because it’s not God’s Country, but rarely has a band transitioned from my #1 aoty to not placing at all, and Chat Pile are no exception. Instrumentally, the album picks right up where they left off and offers some really imaginative and bleak progressions that hit off a sort of anti-pop aesthetic I can easily embrace. Raygun Busch’s unique vocals wear on me in a way they didn’t last time, such that by the closing track, No Way Out, I’m distinctly wanting something more from him. The compositions often grant that–No Way Out even unexpectedly rips into blast beats–but shouting “no escape” over and over doesn’t hit home on a remotely proximate plane of existence to grimace_smoking_weed.jpeg’s world-ending caterwauls. He just doesn’t feel as consistently engaged with what he’s saying. But I don’t think it’s overly fair to double down on a comparison to literally my favorite album of 2022. Cool World is still a highly rewarding if somewhat front-loaded product. And I swear I will finally watch that movie one day. I still remember the mystique of a PG-13-rated cartoon in the early 90s lol
I was pretty late to the ballgame with Dirty Three. Warren Ellis is fairly well known for his role in Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, but I first discovering Dirty Three in 2021, close to two decades since they were releasing material on a regular basis. Ocean Songs has since found a home among my all-time favorite albums, and Whatever You Love You Are and She Has No Strings Apollo are way up there. I was pretty surprised to get the bandcamp notice that they had a new album coming this year, their first in a dozen. Love Changes Everything has been slow to grow on me, but it’s been a steady process that, by December, had earned it a spot. It’s not an album I enjoy paying attention to. It’s something I want on in the background to form my mood. It’s chaotic but peaceful. It’s a happy place I easily forget but don’t want to leave once I enter; something I’m prone to put on repeat once I’ve clicked play.
If I am being the old guy who won’t let go of his youthful favorites, I am ok with that. Cometh the Storm offers absolutely nothing new and is ideal because of that. I am never going to complain about more Matt Pike doing his thing, and he does his thing completely true to form on this album. I listened to it quite a lot and it became my go-to workout album for a while. It’s just fun and I will never grow tired of their sound.
I picked up Kurokuma’s debut album, Born of Obsidian, sampling new metal releases on bandcamp without any rhyme or reason, and it just barely missed out on the top 35 chart I posted end of 2022. I actually forgot all about them and, probably with some algorithmic prioritization, also stumbled into Of Amber and Sand randomly sampling new metal releases on bandcamp. Pleased to say this album feels like an improvement on every level. I keep seeing doom and sludge applied as their style, but I dunno, to me the Sepultura vibes are unmistakable. It certainly does embrace sludge textures. I don’t think those labels are necessarily wrong. Kurokuma just uniquely appeal to me for their rhythms more than their melodies. There’s something deeply tribal to it.
Three years of keeping up with Asthâghul’s music hasn’t managed to make it any less weird. Or maybe he’s making it more weird with each release, I don’t know and don’t have much desire to look back. It’s a bizarre and moody package I’ve come to expect and look forward to. His vocals are a litmus test for the capacity to enjoy people doing weird things with their mouths, especially lately as he’s shifted the rest of his sound from harsh abrasiveness to somewhat soothing atmospheres. When I first heard Consecration of the Spiritüs Flesh I took it to be some sort of rebellion against convention, but I’ve grown increasingly more convinced that it’s just how he likes to sing. I don’t think this album will appeal to most, but I’ve been enjoying his cosmic vibes as a flavorful background piece quite a bit and the vocals are… certainly an unmistakable watermark.
I went on a big catch-up-on-what-I-missed binge in April that didn’t yield terribly much, but it did yield Witch Vomit, and I’ve been going back to this album pretty regularly all year long. It’s just solid, tastefully produced death metal, encompassing but not overbearing. The songs are never quite too catchy to feel redundant or too abstract to feel like songs. A Scream from the Tomb Below didn’t quite make it onto my 2016 chart and I missed out on Buried Deep in a Bottomless Grave entirely, but Funeral Sanctum rises to the occasion. I mean, my tastes have gravitated a lot more towards death metal in recent years too, so I don’t want to say A Scream was sub-par. Might not have been quite my vibe in the moment. Funeral Sanctum clicked with me immediately.
The latest-discovered addition to my list. I didn’t actually run into this until December, but I’ve listened to it a hell of a lot since so I don’t feel biased placing it. If anything it should be higher. To be blunt, this gave me what I wanted and couldn’t find on the new Akhlys album. It’s the same sort of haunt and horror but delivered in a raw and direct way that permits the instruments to carry. Where that album is so overproduced I just hear soup and lament that something appealing might be lurking below, every instrument shines throughout Weaver of the Black Moon and the quality song-crafting can’t be missed. The bass is especially noteworthy, a rare thing to say about a black metal album.
Every year I need one album to put on when I could not possibly give a fuck about anything. Thank you for providing me with that album this year, Korrosive. Thrash usually turns me off because it’s not heavy enough but this uh lol this is heavy enough.
This album is strange. I do not know what to call it. Instruments are played. People make noises with mouths and other objects. He likes to scream a lot. Electronic things happen too. It’s a neurotic clusterfuck that puts on the outward appearance of containing songs with structure but I’m pretty sure they’re just hitting things and pressing buttons to see what happens. I loved it.
A Diabolical Thirst won me over full force in 2021 and remains one of my most frequently revisited albums from that year. Needless to say, I had this on pre-order the moment it was announced. Not quite so many tracks on Songs of Blood and Mire sear sick hooks in my brain. I didn’t end the year remembering one start to finish to the extent of Frigid and Spellbound. But Spectral Wound didn’t deviate in the slightest from the standard they set, and that’s about as good as straight forward black metal gets.
I picked this up on pre-order based on sample tracks before I even knew they were kind of a big deal. In the vast compendium of bands trying to go hard, these guys just get it done better than most. Rich full textures smash brick walls in robust and flavorful ways. It filled a need for endless pummeling brutality that never grew old throughout the year.
Notes notes notes notes notes notes notes notes notes. This album contains many of them. Two hands on the fret board all day here. (Ok, maybe not for a bit in the sample track I used, but the point withstands!) It hedges on silly, but what metal doesn’t one way or another? I try to keep up with I, Voidhanger releases and hit it off with this one right away. Just kind of landed a sweet spot between fun and ferocious.
Tune in here if you enjoy Krallice at their noodliest or dial-up modem aesthetics transposed for guitar. This album packs a ton of eclectic licks and endless dissonant tremolo. Where Aveilut offered a distinct journey through a soundscape, The Promise of Rain stays put. I don’t get the sense of the album progressing somewhere. It is perhaps not as grimly inspiring for that, but it certainly tickles my love for chaotically sequenced note soup. This band’s 2/2 now on top quality albums. If you like this, definitely check out Aveilut as well.
Yep! I don’t think I’ve ever included Nightwish on a year end list before… I expected to be wrong on that claim, but yeah my lists goes back to 2002 and I never did it. Well, this is really good. Maybe some of their other albums were too and I just wasn’t in the mood at the time, but I think they nailed this one in a way old bands rarely manage. It’s punchy and well paced. The orchestration is big and bold in that classic 00s way I don’t hear bands pull off nearly as often these days, and that definitely carries the show. I’m always the most leery of vocals in this style of music. Floor Jansen kinda nails it too though, never getting in the way and deliciously complimenting the soundscape rather than trying to steal the spotlight. She certainly has spotlight moments, but they’re catchy melodies and don’t wear out their welcome. It’s been a minute since I gave a Nightwish album a fair shot and now I’m very curious to see if their last few trended in this direction as well. Might turn into a January binge.
A meandering jazzy metal glob that probably won’t sound how you expect that description to. This album breaks from recent trends of jazz in metal. It’s dissonant, certainly, but it feels so alive. I’ve never heard anything quite like it, and it didn’t wear out its welcome when the novelty passed. Some overlap with Botanist in production and instrumentation perhaps, but applied towards a very different sensation. Highly recommend checking this one out even if metal isn’t your thing.
Some black metal band doing standard black metal things is inevitably going to make my charts just on the massive quantity of this sort of stuff I listen to. Aldheorte appealed to me more than most. Really nice song-writing here if you’re into the melancholy, forlorn side of things. It sometimes had me thinking of Spectral Wound in terms of capacity to ship memorable melodies over relentless pummeling bm standard techniques. Not to say it sounds anything like A Diabolic Thirst or even appealed to me in the same way, but similar elements stood out to me. In a year where for reasons I can’t comprehend I found like a dozen new black metal bands starting with the letter A, Aldheorte overcame their name and cemented a spot among my favorites.
A complex, rich, vastly ranging album that I think could readily appeal to fans of maudlin of the Well. There’s so much to absorb here, in the complexity of things going on in the moment for sure but even more so in the abstract, unorthodox stylistic transitions and song progressions that leave my head spinning and wondering what I just listened to. Pleroma has more to yield than I have time to listen to. It’s a treasure. A curious, uncharted territory waiting to be explored. That I didn’t drop everything I was doing to become deeply and intimately acquainted with every moment is a reality I have to accommodate. Its mood doesn’t resonate with my personal tastes quite enough for me to compulsively put it on over and over again. This is a list of my favorites, not of what I think was “best”, but it’s hard to deny this album’s viability for the latter title.
Man, this album grooves. Fantastic tempo-dynamic roll that bleeds confidence and touches a sweet spot between the bonecrusher catwalk and a furious pulp machine. Sometimes I’m being eviscerated with a chainsaw and sometimes an ogre is sitting on my face. What’s not to love?
I love Thou. I mean, above and beyond the music. They feel like a crew I could just immediately get along with if life chanced me into their midst. They have such a personable stage presence. They like the shit I do. They covered Soundgarden’s 4th of July and Born Against’s Well Fed Fuck on the same album how fucking cool is that. I want to see Thou succeed. They’ve got that fan base connection only a few artists manage. But that hasn’t compelled me to put all of their albums high on my charts. Umbilical is here because it’s really, really good. It goes a lot heavier than 2018’s Magus and ramps up the personality along the way. This is a weird comparison, but I get similar vibes to Boris in terms of like, an extremely extroverted song-writing process that absorbs everything around it and passes it through a core sound filter. It feels so human despite being ridiculously heavy.
I haven’t enjoyed eating shit this much since Dave Brockie died. The album immediately ostracizes anyone with a shred of respectability by way of super-cheesy space alien vocals, and they ride that gimmick the full 33 minute duration. It’s corny as hell in the best possible way, because the guitars absolutely slay throughout and I’m grinning ear to ear listening to them. She’s walkin’ down the alley of the shadow of death, but she’s got nothin’ to fear CAUSE SHE’S EVIL.
12. modest by default – South Cougars Jazz Ensemble
I don’t actually highlight vaporwave nearly as much as I listen to it, and I really, really need to fix that, because in the decade since I stumbled into a 100 album Dream Catalogue dump this genre has evolved and expanded with impressive results in every possible direction. modest by default is my current golden standard, and I think if you give it a sample you’ll quickly understand why. I have absolutely no idea to what extent he’s manipulating the source material in these, but be it a ton or just barely, my ears do not care they know that they are hearing gold. Holy hell I listened to this artist 330 times and counting this year. There’s so much material. If you like what you’re hearing you’re in for one hell of an archive. I’m letting this album represent all six of his 2024 releases because it’s the one that I remember the most individually. Having listened to all 36 of his releases this year, I’m not going to even try to figure out which was which.
By the way, wtf is up with zoomers being all fired up for deaths dynamic shroud.wmv? That feels so random lol where’s the 식료품groceries and Hong Kong Express love if we’re fishing through that can of worms.
11. Godspeed You! Black Emperor – “NO TITLE AS OF 13 FEBRUARY 2024 28,340 DEAD”
How is it that post-rock is turning 30 but these guys still do it best? Not many artists are as consistently outstanding as Efrim Menuck. Obviously a lot of other musicians are in play for Godspeed creations, but everything he touches is gold. Except All Lights Fucked on the Hairy Amp Drooling I guess, but the lost recording rediscovery adventure in 2022 made that album just as worthwhile in its unique way as the rest. I am an old and I have been listening to Godspeed since f#a#oo was a hot new internet file trading sensation at the turn of the century. I think they just keep getting better. I’ve taken to calling Luciferian Towers their best album, and damn this one comes close. (Fuck Off Get Free We Pour Light On Everything by A Silver Mt. Zion is still #1 though; go listen to it immediately if you have not.) I didn’t get invested in God’s Pee and I don’t know why, but No Title took no effort whatsoever. It has been an absolute joy throughout its three months of existence and I am nowhere near done listening to it as I write this. Every moment of this album is a blessing. The progressions are absolute bliss. The climaxes never amass anticipation because the journey to them is always just as good. They’re just peaks you never asked for. A nice view along the ride. It does assume a darker tone beginning with the Broken Spires at Dead Kapital interlude, but by then I’m always so high on what I’ve heard that it doesn’t really shift my mood, just expands the palette.
Shockingly, this is the only Trha album on my list this year. Don’t worry, I didn’t stop being a sucker for everything Damian releases under the name. He just only released one full length and spent most of his time doing Sadness albums instead. Everything you could want in a Trhä album showed up on demand though. It’s raw lofi bm emo’d to the pit of my sadboi heart. I can’t distinguish his releases in my head anymore, but I want to say this one ships classic black metal more aggressively than most. That’s fine by me.
9. Theurgy – Emanations of Unconscious Luminescence
Really masterful tech bdm. The vocals put most of the genre to shame, and I can’t emphasize that enough. I can’t think of anything that sounds this consistently satisfying in pursuit of pig stuck in an unflushed toilet aesthetic. The songs aren’t just interesting in a wtf are they doing sort of way. There are compelling melodic progressions in this package. This is an album that taps so many interests at once for me. It’s brutal and ridiculous, but it’s introspective and kind of thoughtful too.
I’ve listened to most Winterfylleth albums at least once over the years, but the stars never quite aligned to get me engaged with them on the level this album spoke to me. I sense a strong stylistic overlap with Drudkh, one of my all time favorites. But the emotional leverage these songs carry keeps making me think of screamo-black metal hybrid Bosse-de-Nage, maybe an obscure reference but certainly a complimentary one. I feel like a lot of the album is building up around In Silent Grace, a sort of black metal ballad near the later middle of the mix featuring Nemtheanga on guest vox. It’s a break from the other songs, so my comparisons are going to look really silly if it’s the only track you listen to, but it’s definitely my favorite and the highlight cementing this as a top year-end contender.
Depending on where you’re reading this you might not have gotten the memo, but over the past two years Everything Everything have grown to compete with The Drones as my favorite radio-friendly unit shifter since Radiohead. Mountainhead feels like a weak album at a glance when I distance myself from it very specifically because the opening track Wild Guess is easily one of my least favorite songs they’ve ever written. But the rest is bliss and as soon as I put it on I remember that again. Mountainhead doesn’t quite encroach on my holy trinity of Raw Data Feel, Get to Heaven, and Man Alive, but damn do I adore this.
If a lyric of the year award exists, the growling of your stomach’s eldritch heart is spilling into waking life deserves it in every universe.
Ulcerate’s ceiling is through the roof. Stare Into Death and Be Still would have taken my 2020 album of the year crown if I’d known about it before it won MA’s album of the year poll. This is the first album they’ve released since they’ve been on my radar, and while Stare Into Death and Be Still remains my golden standard (good lord, this band has accumulated 1200 plays in a span of four years, and their songs aren’t exactly short), I listened to this the most of anything released in 2024 without even trying. They have mastered what I want. This is everything my ears crave. Maybe I’m not as deeply engaged in the things that are happening around me as I was in the heyday of Krallice and Liturgy, but the sustainability of it all is unprecedented. They ship an eternal mood. So full, so rich, so comprehensive. I remember seeing “voidgaze” pop up on fmbot tags and barely going wtf does that mean before understanding it means Ulcerate. Stare into death and be still.
It’s black metal in French of course it’s good. I mean, I gobble up anything I see with a medieval bm tag, and this was the one I found that held my attention. It’s rather Agalloch-attuned on the folk side and maybe appreciates a bit of Amesoeurs-styled post-punk too, but it isn’t afraid to black ‘n’ roll along the way. Really that’s this album’s greatest strength. It fucking rocks, despite never quite holistically vibing like it will. Like, three and a half into Le Grand Hyver we’re full throttle heavy metal soloing, and it fits but I never hear it coming until I get there. Every track exceeds expectations on attentive listens, and it’s quite satisfying as a background piece as well.
The opening track on this album is so good I don’t even have to remember the rest exists to want it high on my charts. Wait, no, I didn’t forget the other songs. It’s just flows like one continuous masterpiece. Progressive and atmospheric conjure very different things to my mind in a metal context. One suggests a lot of twists and turns, the other a highly consistent ride. This is kinda both. Think later day Enslaved if they listened to a lot of Oranssi Pazuzu and also liked prog rock and jazz.
I chose to sample this because I was feeling an itch for power metal this year and it had awesome cover art. It turned out to be one of my most played albums of the year. They’ve got a fantastic range of instrumental and song-writing talent. Every song hits like it matters, whether it’s a power metal ballad or a fast-pumping Ensifereverent folk metal shredder. This album is a collection of anthems. It makes me think of the 00s golden age of folk metal, when a lot of power metal bands were also tapping into that scene’s energy. I don’t remember any Japanese bands fully capitalizing on that potential before and I love hearing it now. I’ll be keeping up with this relatively young band in years to come for sure.
Every year I run a game where like 50+ people submit 8 songs to me, and it is the source of most of my non-metal awareness of new music. I received two Eunuchs submissions this year and the rest is history. This album isn’t metal, but it certainly goes hard. The lyrics are insanely dark. Everything is dark and horrible and wonderful and just listen to it.
From Austin Lunn, to Ayloss, to Damián Antón Ojeda, a lot of solo musicians have claimed my favorite artist of the moment crown over the past decade and a half. If Erech Leleth continues to release music on a regular basis, he’s next. I absolutely fell in love with Chapter Two: The Resistance by Ancient Mastery last year. Unfortunately, it was released in 2022, a bit late to contend for my #1 album of that year. I had Akt III by Narzissus on pre-order, and despite dropping on January 12th, not many albums challenged it. The song-writing is so good aaaaaaaaaaa. It’s like everything I love about folk metal reskinned in black metal a la Falkenbach but with all of the vision of a prog or power metal concept album epic. It’s so filled with creativity and vibrance and life. This album deeply influenced my entire 2023 listening trajectory, compelling me to seek out a lot of more melody-driven artists and giving power metal a new lease on life in my exploratory repertoire. Make no mistake; this isn’t a power metal album. It’s just got that narrative grandeur fully locked down.
Fourteen years posting a year-end list somewhere, and the rule never changes: odd-numbered years produce more good music. Thankfully, we just concluded 2015. 🙂
15. Deafheaven – New Bermuda
14. Peste Noire – La Chaise-Dyable
13. Mgła – Exercises in Futility
12. Veilburner – Noumenon
11. Botanist – Hammer of Botany
10. Enslaved – In Times (track: Building With Fire)
It’s amazing that after 24 years and 13 studio albums, Enslaved still routinely make it into my year-end top 10. They have continually evolved without letting go of their black metal roots, and the consequence lately has been a long stretch of memorable, prog-rock infused releases that keep up with the times and never grow stale no matter how often I resurrect them. If In Times won’t stick with me quite so permanently as Vertebrae in 2008, it still achieves everything I’ve come to expect of them lately and has managed to entertain me more than the vast majority of other albums I have heard this year. I think I have a bit of a subconscious inclination to prioritize newer bands, but #10 was as low as I could justify dropping this one.
9. Krallice – Ygg Huur (track: Wastes of Ocean)
Like any Krallice album, Ygg Huur takes dozens of listens to ingest. What struck me at first as a rather disappointing, spastic blathering of sound comes together much more coherently if you give it its due time. That being said, it is still a sharp break from their previous four albums, and it lacks that element of progression and overarching vision that has traditionally made this band, for me at least, infinitely repeatable. (I have listened to Krallice more than any other band in my life by a large margin, and they only came into existence in 2008.) Ygg Huur is a brief an meandering mood piece that does not, perhaps, maximize the band’s song-writing talents, but I’ve enjoyed it plenty never the less. More avant-garde than post-black metal, am I allowed to love it and still hope it was just a one-time experiment?
8. Ghost Bath – Moonlover (track: Golden Number)
This is a pretty gorgeous post-black metal album that I’m surprised more sites haven’t picked up on for their year-end summaries. It lacks a touch of refinement that might have earned it higher standing, but the song writing is fabulous. Moonlover delivers a well-rounded package of post-rock infused metal that seems to pay a good deal of respect to Alcest and Amesoeurs, but their undertone is bleak and depressing. It’s a sad album in a way that makes me think of Harakiri for the Sky’s Aokigahara last year, but peppered with little bursts of joy that will bring a smile to your face.
Oh yeah, metal’s not supposed to make me smile. Check.
7. Sumac – The Deal (track: Thorn In The Lion’s Paw)
I never really got into Old Man Gloom. Make what you will of that. The Deal certainly wasn’t Aaron Turner’s most well-received album, but I personally enjoyed it more than anything he’s contributed to since Oceanic. A lot of that has to do with Nick Yacyshyn’s brilliant mastery of the drum set, but I also feel like Turner’s chugging out riffs that really sink into my head more than I’m used to. It’s like a doom metal reinterpretation of Isis, albeit with less progression, and I love the subtle stylistic diversity he brings to the field on this one. It has moments that remind me of everything from black metal to Converge. (And it probably wins this year’s ‘most listened to in my car’ award. <_<)
6. A Forest of Stars – Beware the Sword You Cannot See (track: Virtus Sola Invicta)
Beware the Sword You Cannot See is one of the most eclectic albums I have heard in a long time that I still managed to really enjoy. If I could begin to put a finger on how to describe it, I would have reviewed it ages ago. Black metal at its heart, it weaves a wild mix of strings and spoken word and avant-garde breaks around that core. I like it, quite a bit, and I think the vocals and lyrics (at least, what I can make of them) might be its strongest selling point. I really don’t know what to say about this album. Hear it for yourselves, and be prepared to give an attentive listen–possibly many–if you want to soak it all in.
5. Blind Guardian – Beyond the Red Mirror (track: Grand Parade)
It’s pretty hard to measure the worth of an epic power metal band on a list that is heavily dominated by innovative new styles of music. I don’t think I would have felt entirely comfortable with my positioning of this album no matter where I put it, but I tried to make the cutoff a sort of drifting point between albums that really made me reflect and albums that I just really enjoyed, because there’s never going to be a particularly deep hidden truth to a Blind Guardian track, but they’ve proven a dozen times over to be the ultimate kings of all fantasy-themed music. In the broad scheme of BG’s vast discography, I would probably place Beyond the Red Mirror fourth, after Nightfall in Middle-Earth, At the Edge of Time, and A Night at the Opera. That translates roughly to: it’s awesome.
4. Bosse-de-Nage – All Fours (track: A Subtle Change)
Am I a little biased since I got my initial rip of this direct from frontman Bryan Manning? Probably not, but in my weird little world that’s still a bragging point. 😉 Like Cara Neir’s Portals to a Better, Dead World in 2013, All Fours takes everything I love about screamo and turns it into post-black metal. This might be a coincidence. I’m pretty sure the band claims no direct screamo influence (don’t quote me on that), but the consequence is the same. These guys have worked their way into the top-tier of bands pushing metal in new directions today, and, more so than their previous albums, All Fours really strikes me as a well-rounded composition that possesses the maturity to fully deliver its vision. And Manning has a way with lyrics that’s… well… you just have to read them.
3. Obsequiae – Aria of Vernal Tombs (track: Orphic Rites Of The Mystic)
When I first heard Obsequiae, it was one of those rare moments where I went a-ha, you are that band that’s going to pioneer the style I have always desired but been too inept to create myself. I can guarantee you without much doubt that, of all of the albums of 2015, Aria of Vernal Tombs will find its way into my playlist the most for the longest period of time. Ten years from now, I will probably still be listening to this album when its competitors are all but distant memories. Like Summoning, they fit a unique mood for me that no other band has really begun to approach. (Perhaps Opeth’s Orchid crosses into this terrain, briefly and insufficiently.) A collection of captivating medieval melodies that press themselves upon you by-and-large through euphorically well-mixed guitar and bass (the bass on this album is absolutely gorgeous) rather than traditional instrumentation… my god, I’ve been waiting so long for a band that sounds like this, and they’re easily my favorite new discovery of the year.
2. Panopticon – Autumn Eternal (track: The Wind’s Farewell)
It’s amazing to think that, in the absence of one album this year that won my heart in a landslide, Panopticon could have taken my #1 slot in 3 out of the last 4 years. To put it bluntly, Autumn Eternal is Austin Lunn’s best album to date, and Austin Lunn is arguably the most accomplished metal artist of the 2010s. An incredibly versatile musician who can sample uninhibited from the melting-pot of styles that is post-black metal, Lunn’s newest offering is a mindblowing amalgamation of post-rock and black metal that leaves the more popular bands of this persuasion choking on his dust.
1. Liturgy – The Ark Work (track: Kel Valhaal)
What can I say…. it didn’t make Pitchfork’s top 25? I will probably look back on The Ark Work as one of the most underrated albums ever recorded, and I think its merits have more in common with Radiohead than with anything that has ever derived from heavy metal. It constantly threatens to collapse into a blundering mire of amateur garbage, from the excessive bell tones to Hunter’s marshmallow-mouthed rap vocals. This might be the turn-off for so many listeners, but it is necessary, and the key to this album is in how Liturgy always manage to somehow hold it together. It’s the musical equivalent of your kindergartener handing you a crayon scribble that, on second glance, turns out to be a Picasso.
On Aesthethica, Liturgy explored a very explicit reinterpretation of black metal that found quite a bit of inspired company among bands who were beginning to recognize and explore the similarities between black metal and post-rock. That album helped to define a movement, but it only achieved the band’s vision in a very direct sort of way: through rhythm and melody and progression. The Ark Work nails Hunter’s vision home with an extremely more robust and precise pallet, bringing lyrics and glitch effects and atypical instrumentation and a totally unorthodox approach to metal vocals into the fray. If you listen to a track like “Vitriol” and can barely take it seriously, that’s part of the point, but barely is the key word. Every risk and gamble they take ultimately works, and I am unabashedly unashamed to blare Hunter’s trap beat ‘occult rap’ at max volume out my car stereo. 😀
You might listen to The Ark Work and hear some childish clusterfuck, but I hear absolutely brilliant attention to detail–a musician completely in control of the degree to which his work teeters on the brink of nonsense. Top 20 all-time contender? I could go there. Leave your fear of speaking too fondly of Hunter Hunt-Hendrix at the door and just embrace this album with the assumption that he knew exactly what he was doing. You won’t be disappointed.
If there’s one thing that will draw me back out of obscurity no matter how much work I’m bogged down with, it’s Horror season here on Shattered Lens. As a de facto film blog’s one author who pretty much never watches movies, I like to do my part by digging out a mix of tunes appropriate for the season.
This is always the time of year when I stop focusing on new releases and revisit a lot of my metal and folk favorites of old. From b-side Satanic cheese to authentic pagan anthems to the truly deranged, all the music I love most seems to find a home when that oppressive summer sun gives way to pleasant temperatures and dimming lights. It’s my favorite time of year, and my music collection rises to the occasion.
Opeth is pretty common fair in the textbooks of heavy metal these days, but Mikael Akerfeldt’s finest works came before the fame, in my opinion. Their 1995 debut, Orchid, ranks highest for me. While Akerfeldt’s trademark progressive rock experimentation was present from the get-go, those early albums had a sort of hollow, natural tone to them that lent the band a distinctly folk vibe. Orchid (and Morningrise) seem to drift through the crisp, foggy air surrounding a lake on the edge of a forest, the sun just beginning to rise over the horizon. I don’t wake up early when I can help it, but if a morning commute is necessary, Opeth always sees a spike in my play count. The vision that songs like “The Twilight is My Robe” paint is stunningly vivid, and surprisingly peaceful in contrast to Akerfeldt’s harsh vocals.
The funny thing about Isis is that their legendary status among metal bands has only escalated since the break-up in 2010. Mainstream rock artists sport their t-shirts, Wikipedia editors irrationally credit them as the founders of post-metal, and pessimists grasp at straws to sling negative criticism. They went out at the top of their game, and the fact is you will never hear a mediocre Isis album. They quit before that could become a possibility. The downside is that everything frontman Aaron Turner has contributed to since unfairly finds itself treated by the media as a sort of side project.
Maybe Old Man Gloom avoided that fate. The success in 2014 of The Ape of God (and its sister album, The Ape of God) finally got people to start talking about them as a proper band, not just another project involving “that Isis guy”. Sumac will have a harder time escaping the persona, because it is essentially a two man project between Turner and Baptists drummer Nick Yacyshyn. (Brian Cook of Russian Circles and These Arms are Snakes provides the bass as a “session member” and probably did not contribute to the actual song writing.) But regarding Old Man Gloom or Sumac as secondary projects implies a primary one. Isis is dead, and Aaron Turner most certainly isn’t. Sumac deserves to be taken seriously.
Besides, if The Deal is any indication, Turner is still well within his prime. This album is, for me at least, the best thing I’ve heard him contribute to since Wavering Radiant, and his style merges perfectly with Yacyshyn’s highly acclaimed drumming. I want more. I want The Deal to be the first entry in a long and productive discography that puts Sumac on the map permanently as an outstanding musical collaboration.
song: Thorn in the Lion’s Paw
The biggest negative comment I’ve heard about The Deal is that it sounds bland on first listen. While I never personally felt that way, it might be worth asking “what Isis album didn’t?” Old Man Gloom have written some pretty explosive material, but if you’re familiar with Turner at all you should be prepared to dedicate multiple listens for the album to grow on you. My initial impression of The Deal was of something blissfully even-keel. It generated that feeling of perpetual flowing motion that I always got off Isis albums, and for that it amassed way more plays than The Ape of God ever managed before I even got around to giving it close attention.
The “if Isis were really heavy” interpretation of Sumac definitely holds up over time, but what grows on me most is Nick Yacyshyn. If you take, for instance, the passage from 4:00 to 6:00 in “Thorn in the Lion’s Paw”, Turner’s sequence of brief repeated phrases could definitely border on bland were they the complete picture. They were never meant to be; he found a drummer in Yacyshyn who could plug the void with a really imaginative progression. In managing to somehow feel modest even when erupting into blast beats at the end, Yacyshyn lets you enjoy the build-up without being swept away by the intensity. It’s a tall order for music this extreme. It’s easy to forget how mellow Isis was in comparison until you go back and listen. The next track, “Hollow King”, focuses on Yacyshyn throughout, centered around a 3 minute drum solo over drone guitar that goes wild on the toms in a manner reminiscent of Atsuo Mizuno from Boris (speaking of post-metal legends).
song: The Deal
“Blight’s End Angel” has garnered the most attention, with its rewarding 10-minute progression that feels perhaps the most classically “post-metal” of any track on the album, but it’s the title track that stands out to me most, for better or worse. Throughout The Deal we hear Turner playing around with some mathy licks, enough to make me wonder if he’s been listening to a lot of Converge lately. “The Deal” brings this out more than most, along with maybe a touch of Mastodon and a pretty groovy if short-lived stoner metal beat down at 3:30. Nearly 14 minutes long, the song never really develops so much as it devolves, ending with an even slower tempo than its initial stretched-out plod. But its lack of speed, coupled with intermittent breaks into undistorted, mostly drumless transition passages, all serve to emphasize the real crunch and intensity of Turner’s guitar tones on this album. Compartmentalized into distinct movements rather than smoothly progressing, it really lacks the rest of the album’s flow. That does not really help its case, yet I do really like Turner’s math/prog tendencies in small doses, and the track makes sense in context. The break from the album’s smooth sailing isn’t an accident; it’s an end. The only remaining song, “The Radiance of Being”, is a rather pretty, minimalistic outro.
Over all, The Deal is pretty solid. The first 35 minutes drift along with a surprisingly pleasant vibe, given the levels of distortion and intensity. The title track is a bit harder to swallow, but its seeming lack of cohesion took a while to actually rub me wrong; it sounded just as good at first, but wore out faster than the songs before it. That’s easy to forgive. Of the post-Isis Aaron Turner projects I’ve heard, Sumac is easily the most appealing to my personal tastes. He and Yacyshyn make an outstanding team, and I would love to see them commit to a long-term partnership that builds off this album.
Two years removed, Kentucky has left a unique long-term impression in my mind. For all of the excitement over an authentic and well-crafted mingling of traditional Appalachian folk and black metal–the term “blackgrass” got tossed around a lot–I honestly don’t remember how most of the songs went. This is because Kentucky‘s message managed to trump its sound. I remember the old man talking about organizing strikes against the coal company. I remember Sarah Ogan Gunning’s boldly defiant calls to overthrow capitalism. I think of settlers slaughtering Indians, mountains blown into dust, rivers running black with pollution, grim-faced miners broken in body but never in spirit, a modern generation abandoning everything their ancestors worked so hard to accomplish… That is my memory of Kentucky.
Chase the Grain
I can’t detach myself from Kentucky enough to appreciate Roads to the North as an independent entity. That’s probably fine. I had never heard of Panopticon before Austin Lunn nailed his bloody heart to his sleeve in 2012, and that identity will persist through my perception so long as it remains true. Roads to the North has no explicit message, no lyrics sheet, no spoken tracks or American folk covers. But it has Kentucky, and because of that every song takes on a deeper, more robust meaning than it might have otherwise.
It would be interesting to know what a folk/black metal fan unfamiliar with Panopticon takes from this album. Does the music alone stand far above and beyond the norm? I like to think it does. The album incorporates some entirely unexpected but highly effective melodic death metal moments, especially in the opening track “The Echoes of a Disharmonic Evensong”. This track also gives us perhaps Lunn’s best incorporation of fiddle directly into black metal to date. “The Long Road Part 2: Capricious Miles” transitions out with a long and enthralling jazzy progressive rock chill reminiscent of mid-era Opeth. The whistle in “Where Mountains Pierce the Sky” sounds nothing like what we’re used to out of the European scenes, harkening instead to a western indigenous sound I have only heard from some obscure Mexican folk metal bands. “The Long Road Part 1: One Last Fire” is an unconventional six minute acoustic bluegrass piece that feels more like something straight out of Lunn’s imagination than Appalachia.
The intensity hops around so suddenly that Roads to the North may feel disjointed at first, but the stark contrasts are never forced. Because you don’t always see them coming, they are striking rather than cliche. Lunn performs each of the album’s myriad instruments better than a lot of people who specialize in only one, and there aren’t many producers on the black metal market that can compare to Colin Marston. He has a knack for subtlety that is hard to come by in the scene. I absolutely love the way the tremolo emerges around 30 seconds into “Chase the Grain”, for instance. It’s so soft that you feel its effect on the song as a whole long before your brain consciously recognizes it.
Norwegian Nights
But I suppose I don’t really care about the finer musical details of Roads to the North, and that is why I found this album so difficult to review. This music is only a gateway. Like an engaging book, you never notice that it is well written. Roads to the North is not the guided tour we found on Kentucky. It leaves us be to explore where the feelings take us within the context of the world Lunn has already shown us. Those paths can be rocky. It’s not the glorified past of so many European pagan metallers. The should-be eternal is tainted. The land is marred. It’s the introspective melancholy Americana of Bob Dylan and Tom Waits, and your heart goes out to so many things that you can never hope to save.
“Lie beneath a cold blanket and watch the mountains sleep. The train rolls by every hour, as I wake and dream. The woods and the hills–faces so dear to me. Frozen lakes, flatland snow, where I’m called I’ll go. Such still quiet, then the whistle echoes. My fragile sleep torn from me, as many other things will be.”
“Hold my breath as I wish for death Oh please God, wake me”
Yeah, my taste in music see-sawed back and forth from one end of the spectrum to the other. Yesterday, I reminisced about one of the best R&B ballads from my time as a teenager in high school during the late 80’s. Today, I focus on one of the songs on metal end which remains (in my opinion) one of the best metal songs ever put out there.
“One” was the final single released from Metallica’s fourth album, …And Justice For All.
The song also had the distinction of being the first ever Metallica song which was accompanied by a music video shot for it. Metallica had avoided making music videos of their songs for years. Their success as a band never needed the assistance that MTV could provide. They saw it as a badge of honor that they’ve never made a music video, but that change in January 1989 when the single for “One” was released and a music video followed soon after.
A music video that combined elements from the 1971 anti-war film Johnny Got His Gun and the band playing inside a warehouse. It was an effective video that more than convinced many skeptics that when done properly a metal music video was possible. This wasn’t a video using garish colors, over-the-top imagery of hair metal music videos. It was a video that was just as heavy and through-provoking as the song it was made for.
Cormorant are a 4-piece San Francisco Bay band formed in 2007. They released their third studio album, Earth Diver, back in April of this year. Lacking major ties to any other band I have heard of, it’s probably no surprise that they stayed off my radar until now, but this is a band that definitely deserves some attention. Their well-crafted mix of folk, progressive rock, post-rock, and black metal sets a high standard at the cutting edge of metal today. While Earth Diver may possess a fatal flaw, it offers a world of potential that few bands can hope to realize.
Cormorant – Daughter of Void, from Earth Diver
Earth Diver opens with “Eris”, a two and a half minute instrumental folk guitar track with a bit of a Spanish flare. As nice as the song sounds in and of itself, I am not convinced that it was the ideal choice for their opener. The second track, “Daughter of Void”, kicks off acoustic as well, and with the two tracks combined, the intro just seems a bit overdrawn. Don’t worry though; that’s the last time I’ll be complaining about the album’s structure. The acoustic portion of “Daughter of Void” sets the stage nicely and gets us straight to the point without much delay, kicking the metal side of the song off theatrically. We start with a nice metal groove lacking any of the repetitiveness you might expect from a band with the “black” tag, and at two minutes their prog tendencies start to show. Black metal vocals give way to something reminiscent of Opeth or Mastodon, and the song shifts through a variety of genre norms without really breaking from the overall feel. The song hits a peak at 4:05 with an Amorphis-esque vocal melody and a really catchy rhythmic hook. The bending tremolo behind the vocals starting at 5:35 is sick, and they build on it further at 6:25. The song is just packed with little standout moments that never last long enough to seem like overkill. (The youtube video ends early, but you’re only missing eight seconds.)
This is the sort of track you could easily remember from start to finish, if you could get in to it enough to care. If. The down side to “Daughter of Void” is a fairly mediocre production job that fails to really pull me in. I can hear everything clearly enough, but I can’t really feel it. They are going for classic low-key grit over big, booming sounds, and I get that, but it feels pretty washed out. The sort of sound Agalloch accomplished with Ronn Chick on Pale Folklore could have pushed this song from above average to outstanding.
Funny fact I didn’t realize until I wrote this: Cormorant actually do share some production history with Agalloch. They work with Justin Weis, who did a notoriously shitty job on Marrow of the Spirit. Go figure.
Cormorant – Sold as a Crow, from Earth Diver
“Sold as a Crow” has a very different feel about it. We kick off with some delicious post-black metal. A pretty tremolo melody warps into a desperate cry as the distortion and blast beats kick into gear. The snare does not always feel quite on point with the guitar, but Lev Weinstein might just have me spoiled in that department. This is the kind of black metal I live for. I love the single-beat stop at 1:46 and 2:00. I love the harmony at 1:50 and 2:05. I love the octave shift at 1:52. I love the three seconds of guitar flare at 1:55. This constant barrage of subtle nuances tends to distinguish post-black metal from its ancestor, and it’s the reason I can recall every note of a 15-minute Krallice composition while an Immortal track might fade into the back of my mind in seconds.
At 2:36 the main melody returns with a sort of flowing, jazzy feel, and then the majority of the song repeats. We get some new variation at 4:03 as build-up to a minute of soloing to close out the track. Maybe because the ending doesn’t appeal to me quite as readily, the production of the album starts to eat at me again. It still feels a bit of a wash, lacking depth or crispness without a good reason. I can appreciate “Sold as a Crow”. I can love listening attentively to every note from every instrument, especially in the first two and a half minutes. But I’m left without that desire to hear it again, right goddamn now. I can never listen to a whole Krallice album at once, because I always get stuck on a track and set it to repeat ad nauseam. “Sold as a Crow” could have been a song like that, but its beautiful structure is not matched by compelling tonal quality.
Cormorant – Broken Circle, from Earth Diver
What you’re not going to hear on Earth Diver is more of the same. This isn’t the sort of album where I can describe two or three tracks and feel like I’ve summed the collective up well. Every song is a masterfully complex beast unto its own. With Opeth always on the tip of my tongue, peppered by Amorphis, Agalloch, and Krallice, Cormorant manage to remind me of a lot of the most unique bands in metal without ever paralleling any of them for long or losing its own unique flavor. “Broken Circle” has jazzy acoustic guitar a la My Arms Your Hearse Opeth, straight-up in-your-face black metal, a break to a distinct Orchid-era Opeth sound at 3:29, brief allusions to math rock, and a world in between. When the singer isn’t barking in classic black metal fashion, he might be pulling off his best Pasi Koskinen or Mikael Åkerfeldt impression, letting out a bellowing roar, or even shouting at the top of his lungs (2:04). You can often catch the bass running wild, sounding especially like Johan De Farfalla during the Orchid moment (why oh why did Mikael fire that man?). But as many band references as I can throw out there, the majority of “Broken Circle” sounds like Cormorant’s own unique creation.
And yet. And yet I can’t pull this album in and hold it close for long. What struck me as mediocre production from the start begins to feel like a travesty in the face of such absolutely brilliant compositions. This album was robbed of its well-deserved glory by a quality of sound that totally ostracizes me. I keep cranking the volume up louder and louder, hoping that I am just not experiencing it immersively enough to feel the pull. But it’s never there. Oh, it doesn’t sound half as bad as the transcoded garbage you’re hearing in these youtube samples. It would be fine for an average, run-of-the-mill album. But Earth Diver is not that. It deserved above-average attentiveness–something carefully crafted to showcase their sound in all of its uniqueness. I can’t help but think that if Colin Marston had gotten his hands on this raw potential it would have been molded into the best album of 2014.
Through the Shattered Lens 