The life of the unpaid, overworked metal reviewer is not an easy one. Cascading promos, unreasonable deadlines, draconian editors, and the unwashed metal mobs – it makes for a swirling maelstrom of music and madness. In all that tumult, errors are bound to happen and sometimes our initial impression of an album may not be completely accurate. With time and distance comes wisdom, and so we’ve decided to pull back the confessional curtain and reveal our biggest blunders, missteps, oversights and ratings face-plants. Consider this our sincere AMGea culpa. Redemption is retroactive, forgiveness is mandatory.
As those of us who follow the Gregorian calendar and partake in Judeo/Christian cultural traditions prepare to face the final bosses of the holiday season, we experience a wide range of feelings. Anticipation, at the prospect of gorging on holiday treats as we shuffle from one party to another thrown by family and friends. Nostalgia, of course, as we uphold our traditions and reflect on the celebrations of yesteryear. And, for those who write music reviews for a non-living, contrition. Intense embarrassment and remorse as we prepare for Listurnalia, revisiting records we thought we had adjudicated accurately only to discover the depth of our wrongheadedness. Sometimes our self-reproach has nothing to do with impending lists. Sometimes, shortly after writing a review, an ember of doubt will ignite, smoldering just under our calm exteriors, growing until we want to shriek “Dissemble no more! I admit the deed! — tear up the planks! — here, here! — it is the beating of his hideous heart!” It’s been over three years since the last time we unloaded our disgrace onto you, the unsuspecting reader, so expect this to be a long self-flagellation session.
– Cherd
Sentynel
Powerhouse of contrition
Mitochondrial Sun is the big one for me. I had no idea what I was getting into when I picked up a weird side project from the Dark Tranquillity guitarist. Frankly, I underrated it at the time and it’s grown on me since. Yes, yes, the more ambient ten minutes between “Celestial Animal” and “The Great Filter” are not quite as interesting as the rest of the record. But this is a record to be experienced as a whole, and it’s rarely actually bothered me that the pacing could theoretically have been a little different. “Not quite as interesting” as something that’s absolutely stellar is still great. An incredible record, it draws on a lot of things I love while sounding little like any of them. Absolutely one of my favorites of this decade so far.
Original score: 3.5
Adjusted score: Excellent
Transient error
I haven’t really listened to Transitus since 2020, which is not a great vote of confidence in the 3.5 I originally gave it. I was vaguely dreading exactly how contrite I was going to have to be here. In my head this had turned into me getting overly excited about reviewing Ayreon and awarding a high score to an album with no redeeming features, but listening to it again it’s not actually that bad. Pretty much everything I said in my original review was right, and I stand by what I said about the actual music being very good. It’s just that without the review forcing me to listen to it, the flaws have been more off-putting than I thought they would be. The narration is too heavy-handed. The tonal inconsistences are too jarring. And, as is inevitable for an Ayreon record, it’s too long. The result is that it’s a drag to get through, for all that it’s musically a lot of fun.
Original score: 3.5
Adjusted score: Mixed
Inheritance taxed
Less egregious an error than the other two here, but an error nonetheless. I listen to Inheritance all the time. It is one of the prettiest and most quietly but insistently moving records I own. The other day their Bandcamp page linked a live recording of it (and a couple of other songs) and I just sat there transfixed for the whole thing. I knew when I reviewed it that it was something special, I just wasn’t quite brave enough to give what would have been my first 4.5 at this metal blog to a chamber folk record. Subsequently, Musk Ox have played shows the week after I left Canada on more than one occasion and I’m starting to suspect they’re deliberately avoiding me. I’m sorry! It was excellent all along!
Original score: 4.0
Adjusted score: Excellent
GardensTale
Glutton for punishment
I’ve announced my first downgrade last year, but now I finally got my chance to make it official. Foetal Juice is a bunch of Brighton boys who pump out some really solid death metal in the vein of Cannibal Corpse and peers. On my first brush with the juicy ones, I got a little carried away by their enthusiasm and uncommonly good production. While Gluttony is definitely a cut above the average in an overcrowded field, I never find myself grasping for it anymore. It’s simply not quite memorable enough for that. On replay, it’s easy to see why it got me as excited as it did; it sounds thick, heavy and gnarly, and the riffs kick all sorts of ass. Its longevity just hasn’t been anywhere befitting a 4.0, and so I will take it down a notch. Now officially.
Original score: 4.0
Adjusted score: 3.5
In this moment we are sorry
Most of the time, the commenters are idiots who don’t know what they’re talking about, unless they’re agreeing with me. In the case of Vuur, though, they had a point. In a classic case of wanting to like it more than I did, my tongue-bath of Anneke van Giersbergen’s Devin-influenced prog project had an unusual number of ‘this bit is not that great, but…’ disclaimers for a 4.0. While a select few loved In This Moment We Are Free – Cities as well, a lot of comments complained of a sterile production and unengaging songwriting. I may not agree with the severity of these complaints even now, but in essence, they are definitely valid, and I dismissed them far too easily. Anneke alone cannot compensate for these flaws to the tune of the score received, and listening back to the album I find myself enjoying it mildly, not greatly.
Original score: 4.0
Adjusted score: 3.0
Kenstrosity
Underrated Again!
Just a little over a year after I originally reviewed Chicago progressive tech-death cryptid Warforged’s incredible I: Voice, I submitted a Contrite blurb exposing my mistake of severely underrating its genius. It seems that very few others in the AMG community agreed wholeheartedly with me, save for a few unlikely supporters. Nonetheless, over the course of that year and change, I: Voice continued to grow, continually offering me new details to discover and challenging my perspective of what immersive songwriting and compelling storytelling mean in this sphere.
It’s been over four long years since that original contrite piece was published, and in that time Warforged’s immense debut only penetrated deeper into my psyche, blooming into a venerable monstrosity that has no equal. In every corner of the tech-death, progressive death, and even dissonant death metal halls, there lurks no other creature of the same grotesque form or fearsome presence as I: Voice. Its unique and inimitable character straddles the fence between tension and catharsis with such acrobatic finesse that I find myself in awe of its terrifying shape, reveling in the deeply disturbing environs it conjures and dreading the inevitable horror of its conclusion. For once it’s over, I am compelled by an instinctual, morbid obsession to venture back into this densely forested lair where those monsters that Warforged dared summon unto this mortal coil dwell. No other album before it, and no other album since ever drove me to this special kind of madness. If that doesn’t make I: Voice worthy of Iconic stature, then I don’t care to know what else would.
Original Score: Good.
Initial Adjusted Score: Excellent!
Final Adjusted Score: Iconic!
Overrated!
As many of our readers are undoubtedly aware, I am an overpowered hype train incarnate. Unsurprisingly, I also have a tendency to become hyperfocused and more than just a little fixated on things when I love or hate them. Naturally, I was predisposed to a particularly rapt interest in this year’s greatest surprise, a new Sunburst album. Fully ready to accept that I would never hear from these Greek power prog powerhouses again, Manifesto made me extremely happy for the entire time I spent reviewing it.
In the months that followed, several major events in my life, at work, and elsewhere conspired to take me away from many of the records I loved. However, I made a concerted effort to revisit Manifesto as often as I could. Unfortunately, those efforts revealed a bit of a nagging feeling that I had been blind to some of this record’s flaws—namely, bloat. It’s not egregious, and it doesn’t ruin any song, but it does occasionally make fifty minutes of high-octane, high-IQ power metal feel closer to an hour. This is by no means a deal-breaker, and every song is still a banger. There’s no denying that Manifesto is a great album, and I still love it dearly. But, after removing my delicately rose-tinted glasses and looking at Sunburst with a more realistic eye, I recognize that by giving in to my infallible enthusiasm for a record I couldn’t have hoped for, I failed to fairly assess its quality in comparison to the many other fantastic records 2024 had to offer.
Original Score: Excellent!
Adjusted Score: Great!
Underrated!
Elvellon’s Ascending in Synergy underwent the inverse trajectory of Sunburst—while I cooled a touch on Sunburst, I heated up for Elvellon. In a bizarre twist of fate, the challenges I faced in life this year put much about who I am as a person and as a music enjoyer into perspective. With that came a desire to rediscover the qualities in metal that made me fall in love with it in the first place, and to honor the journey that joining this blog gifted me—explosively expanding my horizons in the greater metalverse in the process. This introspection and reflection allowed me to, rather unexpectedly, recognize how I unfairly underrated these German symphocheese standouts.
Everything that I mentioned in my coverage of Ascending in Synergy remains true, for the most part. The most significant change between then and now is how much its flaws actually bother me in relation to how absolutely enamored I am with its virtues. The first eight songs and the closer remained a staple of my listening rotation far beyond the month I spent reviewing this record, and I’ve entirely stopped feeling the urge to skip the monologue-heavy penultimate epic. While I still could do without that speech and consequential bloat, I just can’t escape the vice grip those massive hooks that litter the entirety of this hour of lushly ornamented symphonic power metal have on my heart. I truly and wholly love this album. While far from most unique or the most complex record released this year, it is undoubtedly one of my favorites. It should then be rated to reflect that. So it shall be!
Original Score: Very Good!
Adjusted Score: Great!
Cherd
Baby, I done you wrong
Back in September, I ran roughshod over the poor score counter, proclaiming the blackened, sludgened death metal of Glacial Tomb’s Lightless Expanse a towering achievement befitting the band’s geographical location high in the Colorado Rockies. I still believe that the combo of “Voidwomb/Enshrined in Concrete/Abyssal Host” is “…a world-beating three-song stretch of brutality and tasteful songwriting.” However, I’ve come to realize some of the other material on the album doesn’t live up to the kind that should break the score counter’s back heart. So score counter, if you’re reading this, baby I love you. I’ve been such an ass. Please take me back? I promise it won’t happen again for probably a couple months.
Original score: 4.0
Adjusted score: 3.5
Mistakes made in the dark
Sometimes when you spend a lot of time with an album, you experience a kind of Stockholm Syndrome. You enter the world conjured by the sound and atmosphere and you become more amenable to its charms than you did on first impression, even if that impression was right. This past June I went spelunking into the ridiculously grimy death metal depths of Black Wound’s Warping Structure. It could have been the acrid air or the lack of sunlight affecting my judgement, but something about it captured me in a way it doesn’t as I revisit the album. Don’t mistake me, despite the commentariat finding the raw production a bridge too far, I still think it’s a fun, filthy time. It’s just that as I swing my head lantern around, things that once looked menacing in the dark are in reality a bit less imposing.
Original score: 3.5
Adjusted score: 3.0
What’s in a score?
Six years ago, during my n00bdom, I was hazed most egregiously when Steel Druhm assigned me A Hero for the World’s Winter Is Here. Ostensibly the second part of a “rock opera” by one Jacob Kaasgaard, this album was in fact 90 minutes of Christmas classics and a single original song–in three versions–presented in the weeniest of weenie power metal styles. While Kaasgaard was clearly a competent instrumentalist, his singing veered into the unintentionally comical, and his ability to self-edit, and for that matter any self-awareness, was non-existent. I gave it a rare 1.0 and attempted to move on. Kaasgaard, however, wasn’t done with me. My wife and I decided that Christmas to put on Winter Is Here for shits and giggles as we decorated the tree. Then we did so the next year. The year after that, we decided to welcome the Yuletide by playing the album the day after Thanksgiving. We introduced it to friends of ours, who like us, laughed at the earnest disaster of it all, but, like us, they began using it to kick off their holiday festivities every year since. Something about the clear joy Kaasgaard exudes as he plays and sings these classic songs–and his earworm original–has lowered our critical defenses. Winter Is Here remains a bad album. But it’s a bad album we enjoy a little less ironically with every passing year.1
Original score: 1.0
Adjusted score: 1.0
Sentimental score: 4.0
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