Dolphin Whisperer
Thus Spoke and I go way back. In fact, after our successful graduation from the same n00b class and into our first list season as full article writers, we had imagined that us two as a listing pair would produce a lethal and novel whiplash.1 So welcome to the bottom (or top) half of this eclectic endeavor that’s sure to leave you with thirty-some-odd unique albums to revisit or ignore or whatever it is you do with our strong and word-riddled opinions.
Now, the keen reader may notice I’ve had a bit of a productivity drop-off since about June. Well, that’s cause my wife gave birth to The Dolphlet, first of his name, and that’s kind of a lot of work, as I’m finding out. Baby comes first, as it goes. But I squeaked out a few important things, including a Coroner review that the unwashed masses claimed didn’t jerk Tommy Baron and co. as full of glee as it should have. I did miss other important things, like several of my list items.2. And I sincerely apologize to the following bands and offer them words of condolence or, something like that, based upon their individual situation: Bonginator, you should be glad I dropped the ball, stop it with the lame interludes; and count your blessings, Hell Ever After, thrash doesn’t need to be a musical; Species, you did thrash right though and I’m happy that others enjoyed you even more; Moths, and more specifically bassist Weslie Negron, I’m sorry that I took on your interview when my son was one month old and my brain was fried—your album rocks and you put in so much work to make Moths special. And lastly, to all the classics, I had grand plans to YMIO because I thought my brain could make that work—haha.3
Angry Metal Guy, however, remains home for me. You, dear readers, are a part of that love and drive that keep me here. Sometimes, I may only be able to conjure a half-funny joke in the comments section—you laugh (let me believe that) and give it two to five likes. Others, I may hype the heck out of a promising underground act until one of my trusted colleagues tells me “Dolph, that’s enough already, I’ll review it, sheesh.”—you liked it probably more than I did anyway. You see, for every word of bleeding hyperbole that we scribble, two sets of eyes may walk away enraptured. When you’re dealing with artists who have anywhere from sub-100 to 30004 listeners on the popularity engine of Spotify, every set counts. Every purchase on Bandcamp or Ampwall counts. Every stream on Tidal or some other competitor counts. Even your damn scrobble on last.fm counts if you’re nerdy enough for that. So sappy as it may seem, along with the herding efforts of Steel and occasionally The Big Dr. AMG Man Himself, you all give life to the bands in this wonderful modern metal scene. Hails!!
#ish. Messa // The Spin – I can’t rid myself of the power that a soaring bluesy lick and a smoky siren voice hold, no matter how I try. Burned into my head are The Spin’s glassy chorused-out chorus escalations. Drenched into the cones of my crackling car speakers are the synth throbs of certified shakers “Fire on the Roof” and “Thicker Blood.” Turn up the volume and turn down the lights, Messa has come to steal attention with yet another platter of throwback creativity.
#10. Quadvium // Tetradōm – Steve DiGiorgio and Jeroen Paul Thesseling stand at the altar of supreme metal bassists in my own personal head canon. They’d helm yours too if you were familiar with the span of their collective talents across acts like Death, Sadus, Autopsy, (DiGiorgio), and Pestilence, Obscura, Sadist (Thesseling). Knowing all this, they decided to make an album together. And in their refinement as performers, they managed to make a supergroup two-bass project more than just a thumpy wankfest. Full of diverse and rich tones, modern and proggy jitteriness, and a rounded, jazz fusion-leaning taste for exploration, Tetradōm provides an exciting notch in the weathered belt of these legends. I don’t know where Quadvium goes next after this, but I hope that it’s anything but dormant.
#9. Scardust // Souls – Every time I hear the introductory stumble of “Long Forgotten Song,” I fall immediately into the spastic and serenading world that Scardust crafts with their hypermelodic, histrionic, and confident progressive metal attitude. Central to this success remains the peerless Noa Gruman, whose every melody lands with honey-slathered tack and sing-a-long inspiration, despite my voice being a far, far cry away from the searing soprano wail that functions as a mic-drop crescendo as often as it needs to. Behind her, though, lies one of modern prog’s most nimble rhythm sections, imbuing even ballads like “Dazzling Darkness” and “Searing Echoes” with a bass-popping and hi-hat chattering clamor that places Souls in a league of its own. Also, Ross Jennings of Haken sounds better here than he has with Haken since The Mountain.
#8. Chiasma // Reaches – Chiasma possesses the unique ability to blend in with the modern paradigm of accessible melody prog in the lane of a band like Tesseract without conforming to its most djentrified tendencies. Rather, floating in its own swirl of Cynic-coded riffage and angelic, layered vocal excess, Reaches explodes with atmosphere and propulsive riff alike. In Katie Thompson’s nimble serenades rests a voice imbued with both a fluttering prowess and an aching heart. And in this sorrow—wrapped in the brightness of bleeping electronic backings, flipping virtuosic guitar runs, and singular voice—a yearning and healing takes place in fervent and fluorescent splendor.
#7. Dawnwalker // The Between – Just when I thought Dawnwalker didn’t have any more surprises left in their bag of tricks that seem tailor-made for my enjoyment,5 these sneaky Brits went and pulled out the one-long-song album. Continuing to live in the space of esoteric philosophy set forth in The Unknowing last year, Dawnwalker collects moods from all their previous works—the melancholy of isolation from In Rooms, the vocal aggression from Human Ruins, a sonic palette even grander in scope than Ages—to explore thoughts surrounding death. In lush construction, plaintive discourse, and time-bending magic, The Between breathes as a meditation bookended by heavy chiming bells—a journey that feels longer than its svelte 30-ish minute runtime but with none of the fatigue its gargantuan ask threatens. 6
#6. Gorycz // Zasypia – It’s a shame that Gorycz isn’t a household name, as their mystical, groovy approach to atmospheric and retching black metal sits among my favorites in the genre as a whole. Zasypia, as part three of a trilogy, tells a tale of despair through a warping pedalboard light on traditional distortion, shrieking throat on the edge of coherence,7 and dancing kit full of jazzy aplomb. In the space that lives between recursive and developing refrains, terror lurks. But in the Gorycz tattered exhale hangs a reverence for the beauty that can emerge from destruction and grieving. Feel every amplified string creak as you fall deeper into this devastating world.
#5. Lychgate // Precipice – You may be aware that this album was released on the 19th of December, a full two days after we were supposed to turn in these lists. Knowing that, I made sure I beat Precipice to the punch of garbage time list upheaval by listening to it, well, before that. In turn, Lychgate made sure that they’d make this late-season blooming count. With the death-thrash spirit of an early Morbid Angel crashing through low-end organ harmony and colliding with Holdsworthian alien guitar bleating, Precipice holds back neither on its urge to wander in arcane atmosphere nor on its urge to churn bodies in kinetic wonder. As another writer (whose name I can’t remember) said, Precipice ensnares by “…oscillating between Zappa’s Jazz from Hell and unearthly, pit-scorching acrobatics.” I couldn’t have put it better myself.8
#4. Barren Path // Grieving – The best grindcore album of the decade so far would come from the manic attack of Gridlink sans Jon Chang. Absent his terrifying shriek, Matsubara’s guitar scatter weighs heavier, Fajarado’s lightning snare rolls clang sharper, all against song lengths that inhabit the true short-form tradition of extreme brevity. The truth is, I’ve spent longer than the album’s length trying to convey its intensity and prowess, so just go and listen to it already. I’ll wait here. No, seriously, do it.
#3. Turian // Blood Quantum Blues – So very rare is the album that aligns like a key to a lock of a heart torn by generational angst. An eloquence exists in the disparity between Turian’s stark societal observations punctuated by raw emotional interjections of “FUCK”. I haven’t bothered to count the instances that this linguistic escalation occurs, but I guarantee that there are more fucks per stanza on Blood Quantum Blues than your favorite album this year. And, after you’ve become addicted to its overdriven noise rock-meets-hardcore-meets-industrial madness, you’ll know every single one as you shout along its contemptuous tales of cultural erasure. Indians don’t vanish, and neither will my love for every riff, every breakdown, and every tirade of Blood Quantum Blues.
#2. Changeling // Changeling – Tom “Fountainhead” Geldschläger poured everything into Changeling. Arranging over thirty performers across Changeling’s seems Sisyphean in scope, but Geldschläger persevered. Through peerless fretless wailings, every instrument under the sun follows well-developed motifs, and a pure love for metal, Changeling expresses nostalgia and novelty in its every loaded nook and cranny. And behind each moment of dense and exuberant songcraft, Geldschläger has tinkered to deliver an experience that feels carved over a lifetime. On top of all of that, Geldschläger is also a true guitar wizard—he zigs and zags and twists and twirls where others wear a scale to death. Like a classic novel or movie, Changeling reveals its worth both in immediate, jaw-dropping action and deep, attention-stealing detail. Geldschläger even put together a Dolby Atmos mix for the album and held listening parties in Berlin. I hear they’re wonderful. Come to California, Tom!
#1. Maud the Moth // The Distaff – When we seek art, we seek bravery and freedom of expression. And in the music that we seek in a refuge like Angry Metal guy, we often find these qualities expressed in emotional theme, in raw, sonic aggression, or in sweeping guitar-led grandeur. Woven from a different base cloth, Maud the Moth on paper does not fit that mold. Amaya López-Carromero wields, instead, a piano and scrawled diary pages. She, too, has pain, the same as any human who has encountered a world unforgiving to a life that wishes to live in a divergent path. And like the artists we value—or rather, like the artists I value—Amaya presents her vision of this struggle with focused and expanding melodic lines, crushing and crying crescendos, and an earnestness that compels its audience to surrender for a moment to a world created by these musical ideas. When your sadness comes, it won’t weep in blacks and ivories the way that The Distaff does. But you can pop it on and pretend for its run that its triumph will transfer from your ears to the very center of your tingling chest.
Honorable Mentions:
Pissgrave // Malignant Worthlessness – Tempos that flow like a full sewage pipe and riffage that doesn’t let up until the steaming and warped conclusion. The Pissgrave family flows as one heaving death-fueled machine, and it’s sad to see them close shop. But they left us with a monster of a swansong.
Dormant Ordeal // Tooth and Nail – Pummeling and emotionally resonant—if a bit ham-fisted in some lyrical choices—Tooth and Nail represents the ideal form so far of what Dormant Ordeal can achieve with their gut-wrenching take on the Polish death metal sound.
Sterveling // Sterveling – The backdrop of black metal on what is otherwise downcast jam music makes for a combo that is both hypnotic and uncontested in the space. It helps that the vocalist lets out some of the most demented howls I’ve heard this year.
夢遊病者 // РЛБ30011922 – Speaking of jam music, 夢遊病者 has, over time, morphed from a more frenetic math rock-indebted experience to this current, flowing state of progressive tone porn. 2025 was a good year for the one-song album. And much like Dawnwalker’s The Between, it takes up about thirty minutes and some change. Restraint, class, and fat bass heaven.
Aversed // Erasure of Color – I’m not normally one for melodic death metal. But when it comes packaged with this much mic vitriol and a neoclassical sense that reminds me of the late, great Nevermore,9 I pay attention. And I spin it again and again and again—constant rotation since arrival.
Yellow Eyes // Confusion Gate – Certain albums that come out late in the year suffer greatly because their true power lies in remaining interesting and unfolding over a long period of time. Immersion Trench Reverie is a special album, and Confusion Gate feels like its sequel. Comfy and caustic all at once.
Moths // Septem – As the premier progressive metal band from Puerto Rico, Moths has a loaded mission to make a name for themselves. And with another album that keeps its runtime tight and its riffweight heavy, Septem deserves your attention for half an hour and then some. Hey, look, it’s on Ampwall too!
Grayceon // Then the Darkness – Cello metal at its finest and most relatable. Despite advances in chamber inclusion throughout the metalsphere, not a single band sounds like Grayceon yet. And their songwriting quality remains so high that I don’t care that this album is just about eighty minutes.
Helms Deep // Chasing the Dragon – There’s a dragon with a jetpack on the cover. I shouldn’t need to say more than that. But note also that Chasing the Dragon comes also loaded with rollicking ’80s flair and pentatonic guitar wizardry that’s so out of fashion it’s cool again. This is metal.
Disappointments o’ the Year:
Suffering Hour // Impelling Rebirth and Umulamahri // Learning the Secrets of Acid – You’ll see more words about these later, cause they are great. And they are EPs. That’s not enough music when this quality exists.
Songs o’ the Year:
Why give you one when I can give you twenty-seven? Why twenty-seven? That’s my secret. Now, I’ve talked enough. Go out there and enjoy some music, friends. And enjoy this photo of my dogs eating. And the Dolphlet admiring them!
Thus Spoke
I’ve been blindsided by the year’s end again, and now have to find some interesting things to say about 2025. Other than the fact that I turned 3010, my main personal Thing ov Significance is that I managed to land myself a new job, which I’ll start in the new year.11 Don’t worry, though, I won’t be girl-bossing too hard to have time for AMG.
Musically, 2025 has been a (small) step down from 2024 for me, although this could just be due to my attention deficit. I’ve had my finger less firmly on the pulse in the last six months, such that several albums, by artists I like, many on this list, either took me completely by surprise on release day, or crossed my radar barely any sooner, thanks to me actually checking Slack for once. I don’t have any well-defined excuse for this outside of plain old burnout plus terrible organization. On the other hand, the fact that I didn’t review most of my favorite records this year means that I can bat away criticisms of self-indulgence by having a year-end list mostly comprised of albums I didn’t write about. One thing I am happy to have achieved this year is running my first AMG Ranking piece on Panopticon. It might be the most verbose and least exciting of its kind for the majority of site readers, but being forced to immerse myself that extensively in the discography of an artist I love was very cool (albeit intense).
Speaking of my own erratic presence at HQ, leads me on to the hiatus (official or not) of several wonderful people among the staff, particularly my list-buddy Maddog, whom I miss very much. They all have good reasons, and I support them immensely, even if it means fewer of their excellent reviews. Fortunately, we’ve also welcomed many newcomers to our ranks who can pick up my slack in their stead, and whose reviews help me improve my own writing whilst also appending to the endless list of Things I Must Listen To.
As my extensive yapping here shows, my ability to meet a word count hasn’t improved much. Before finally moving on to the list, I’ll take the chance to reiterate my gratitude for everyone reading this, and some people who might not be. Thank you to all the staff for collectively making this all possible, and giving me the opportunity to speak about music and for people—you guys—to actually read it. Thank you for reading. Even if our tastes are completely opposed and you think I’m wrong about everything, I’m glad you’re here.
Now for the bit people actually care about.
#ish. Panopticon // Songs of Hiraeth – Quietly12 released alongside Laurentian Blue, Songs of Hiraeth is a collection of songs composed between 2009-2011 that never saw the light of day. In it, you can hear the incredible development of Panopticon’s signature emotionally swelling black metal style in this period, and this record, like virtually all of them, as I repeated in my ranking blurbs, is gorgeously, absorbingly heartfelt and powerful. Unlike you might expect, it actually increases in intensity as it progresses (for me), with the final trifecta of “The End is Drawing Near,” “A Letter,” and “The Eulogy” all gunning for my Songs o’ the Year playlist with first devastating rage and fury, then heartbroken solemnity and sublime melody throughout. I guess it’s not fully in the list purely because it’s not a ‘proper’ new release, or whatever.
#10. Grima // Nightside – It could have been easy to forget about Grima, given its dropping right on the cusp of the stacked Spring release season we had this year, and the fact that I didn’t instantly mark it down for a TYMHM as with Clouds. But I didn’t forget. Despite their wintry aesthetic, Grima’s music warms my heart with folky magic and ardent blackened blizzards. Nightside is no exception, its warmth coming this time from a renewed emphasis on the atmosphere and bayan after the higher energies of Frostbitten. I love intense, harsh, frosty black metal, and I love how Grima do it (“Impending Death Premonition,” “Where We are Lost”). But what I love most of all about Grima is how they pair that with their folky tendencies, and the way—as Sharky pointed out—Vilhelm’s rasps graze over it all. This culminates, for me, in the more mournful and urgent tone of several tracks on Nightside, where intense moments still feel dreamlike (“The Nightside”), and vocals breathe like ghostly whispers (“Mist and Fog”). It’s not my favorite Grima record (that’s probably Rotten Garden), but being a Grima record at all, given their caliber, means it’s bloody great and has to be on my list.
#9. Bianca // Bianca – Here’s an excellent example of a record I very likely would never have heard were it not for the AMG writer community. And wow, am I grateful I did. Ken‘s description alone caught my interest, let alone the tidbit that the project includes two members of another 2025 favorite of mine, Patristic.13 It takes familiar concepts from metal, both post—ethereal atmospheres and haunting singing—and extreme—sky-piercing shrieks, undulating, relentless double-bass, and tangled guitar blizzards—but sounds like nothing else. Even in combining these elements, Bianca stands alone. The coalescence of blackened, doomed, ambient layers is mesmerizing, the pitches upward into mania, and lapses back into mournful mystique, captivating. Throat-gripping furor arrests me more inextricably than almost anything else this year (“Abysmal,” “Nachthexe”), and transcendent melodies forged from this black fire lift me fully out of my body (“Abysmal,” “Todestrieb”). I’ve been in love since.
#8. Der Weg Einer Freiheit // Innern – Innern’s influence on me was subtle and insidious. I would just put it on, be absorbed—or be sucked back in periodically, if I was working and not concentrating on it—and suddenly it would end. Then I’d listen to it again. Der Weg Einer Freiheit has been developing their particular intense, dark, atmospheric kind of (post-) black over the last decade or so, and with Innern, it’s approaching an apex. Through endlessly enveloping compositions, filled with fury and urgency (“Marter”) or solemn reflection and introspection (“Eos,” “Forlorn”), that flow seamlessly out of one another, Innern folds you insidiously into its depths. Compelling melodies, dynamic rushing percussion, and here-dramatic, there-soft-spoken vocals, each taking pieces and incorporating trials from Der Weg Einer Freiheit’s career so far, drive the thematic compositional thread through irresistibly. From the anticipatory opening shudders to the ebbing chords at its close, Innern is an experience best taken whole, and one I’ve indulged in countless times to go on this magnetic journey once again.
#7. Paradise Lost // Ascension – I never thought this would land here when first announced. Sure, I like Paradise Lost, but their back-catalog is so mixed (in style, let alone quality), that ‘liking’ them for me comes down to enjoying a handful of their now 17 albums. Even the singles’ being good failed to stir anything more than curiosity, given my experience with intra-album inconsistency. But when Ascension did finally grace my ears in full, it appropriately transcended any doubts and softened my heart towards these doom icons again.14 Paradise Lost were heavy again, melancholic and mopey again—in a cool, atmospheric way—and Ascension just flowed, with grungy aggression and sadboi introspection in perfect equilibrium. This easy, natural duality that characterizes Gothic metal, and Paradise Lost themselves as genre pioneers, when they’re at the top of their game, is exemplified in Ascension. Hopefully, the group can stay on this trajectory for number 18, if that comes.
#6. Clouds // Desprins – I don’t understand how Clouds are as good as they are. I mean this as no insult to the musicians; what stuns me is the depth of pathos, and the consistency with which they deliver it, given the relatively understated and idiosyncratic manner in which they execute it. Their characteristic flute-folk-funeral doom is so ethereally, painfully sad without being overwrought, melodramatic, or crushing. It took my n00bish breath away four years ago, and this year Desprins came and took it again; this time with pieces of my soul attached. The music is just so beautiful—unrelentingly bleak, but beautiful, and Clouds’ balance of the dark and the light through the synths and acoustics, and apathetic spoken-word is exquisite and deeply affecting. These composite melodies, swelling and trilling softly, are transportive for me—particularly “Life Becomes Lifeless,” “Chain Me,” “Sorrowbound,” and “Chasing Ghosts.” Desprins is everything I want funeral doom to be: a prolonged dream-state of melancholy that paradoxically brings me joy.
#5. Deafheaven // Lonely People with Power – I have never been a Deafheaven fan. In all honesty, I’m still not. Lonely People with Power fires me up and fills my soul, while the rest of their discography continues to leave me completely cold. It seems that, briefly departing from metal entirely with Infinite Granite, has matured their sound, adding layers to their edgy blackgaze. Even when indifferent, I never understood the scorn their music generates, and now that I’ve fallen for Lonely People with Power, it makes even less sense. Not only is the way Deafheaven are combining rich, beautiful melodies with—yes—brilliant black metal simply lovely to listen to, slick, seamless, sharp, etc, it’s also distinctive and engrossing. That’s before even getting into how emotionally resonant it is. And it’s not even like this means it can’t be heavy—heck, one of these tracks is on my Heavy Moves Heavy playlist. It’s not ‘cringe’; it’s a phenomenal record and one of the best to release this year.
#4. 1914 // Viribus Unitis – I have always been most moved—emotionally and aesthetically—by 1914’s brand of WWI-themed blackened-death than any other like act. Viribus Unitis somehow outdoes Where Fear and Weapons Meet, and possibly all of the band’s previous efforts, for evocativeness and being straightforward and compelling. From the now hallmark bookends “War In/Out” to frequent samples to lyrics infused with real soldier testimony, Viribus Unitis envelops the listener in this portal to the past through 1914’s most powerful, urgently melodic compositions. Every song is heavy, dramatic, and snappy in just the right amounts, resulting in a series of back-to-back bangers that also occasionally really, really hit home emotionally. “1918 Pt 3: ADE (A duty to escape)” does all the above to perfection and has received an almost embarrassing number of replays in the short time since release. But “1919 (The Home where I Died)” did actually make me cry,15 and its fade into “War Out” is the perfect end to the monumental achievement Viribus Unitis represents.
#3. Patristic // Catechesis – It seems that every year, I review one particular atmospheric-dissonant death metal record which dominates my listening in that subgenre, and instantly secures a year-end list spot. In 2023, Serpent of Old, last year Ulcerate16, and this year Patristic. Catechesis was an immediate, visceral love for me, and not once since June has it left rotation. Sinister and dark, but irresistible in its seamlessly flowing, captivating macro-composition narrated by roars and solemn sermonizing; it ends far too soon. And in addition to being beautifully atmospheric and magnetic in melody and dissonance alike, it stands out for truly insane performances in their own right. Specifically, the drumming, which continues to blow my mind and propels Catechesis from greatness into excellence with hypnotic, intelligent rhythmic interplay. Patristic’s uncanny ability to make extreme, inaccessible music incomprehensibly engrossing and a magnificent expression of its concept are why I can’t stop listening to Catechesis, and why it’s almost the best record of 2025.
#2. Qrixkuor // The Womb of the World – Much like reviewer Kenstrosity, whereas Qrixkuor’s debut Poison Palinopsia rewired my brain with its brilliance, I found follow-up Zoetrope a tad underwhelming. When said sponge began to hint, and then gush unstoppably about the duo’s second full-length, The Womb of the World, which was in his possession, vague hope turned to giddy excitement. Not only the twisted, psychedelic horror of their signature freeform blackened death would await me, but also a full live orchestra. Yet I still don’t think anything could have adequately prepared me for how massive and mad The Womb of the World actually is. With the strings, horns, and piano swooping and crashing about in great surges and falls, Qrixkuor’s already grandiose style fully feels like some tormented classical opus, and it’s utterly magnificent. Things so small as my words can’t do justice to the way the eerie and intense lurching orchestrals, maniacal snarling voices, and cavernous extreme metal combine to create some of the best things I have ever heard, ever. Weirdly memorable and violently compelling despite its monstrosity, I’ve become completely addicted to it since. Ken himself said, it is “a mastapeece for those to whom sanity is immaterial,” when he rightfully deemed it ‘Excellent’. If I must rescind soundness of mind to so esteem The Womb of the World, I will do so gladly.
#1. Cave Sermon // Fragile Wings – Last year, Divine Laughter went from unknown to #5 on my year-end list in about 2 weeks, so when I found out there was a follow-up—thanks to my new Flippered list buddy—I dropped everything.17 My stratospheric expectations were not only met, but they were lifted into outer space. I would fear for Cave Sermon’s ability to deliver in the future, but Fragile Wings itself dismisses any trepidation. So recognizably, uniquely Cave Sermon, it displays a new, more uplifting interpretation of their sound. A commenter pointed out the lack of reference to So Hideous in my review, and in retrospect, I see their point, at least in degree: the two projects are similarly experimental and impressively novel-sounding without actually feeling avant-garde. But there is just something about Cave Sermon that puts them in an entirely different category of genius—for me. Fragile Wings is playful but not silly; it’s complex but memorable, groovy, and fun; it’s dissonant and strange, but it’s organic, harmonious, and digestible. The idea that just one person is behind this18 makes it that much more mind-blowing. At this rate, there could well be another Cave Sermon record next year, and on the current trajectory, it may finally land this fantastic artist the official Iconic status they have always deserved.
Honorable Mentions:
Dormant Ordeal // Tooth and Nail – Hands-down my favorite Dormant Ordeal album so far. Heavy, groovy, and eminently-listenable, it really got its claws into me—especially during gym sessions shortly after release. It did fall out of my rotation quite substantially, in favor of its rivals above, thus putting it here.
Primitive Man // Observance – When Observance dropped, and I was listening for the first time, I badly tried to describe Primitive Man to my partner (not a metal fan) over WhatsApp as “being crushed by a big rock really slowly, but in a good way.” Obviously, they didn’t know what I was on about, but Spicie Forrest seems to with his much better analogy of “being imprisoned and forgotten in a lightless pit.” Primitive Man has always made silly-heavy, scary-huge music, but Observance clicked with me like nothing else in their discography prior. I am indeed helplessly crushed and held prisoner.
Blut Aus Nord // Ethereal Horizons – I think if this had dropped just a tiny bit earlier, it could have ended up on my list proper. Blut Aus Nord has always been one of those artists I know I do enjoy, but for some reason has never fully clicked for me. Ethereal Horizons felt immediately more enthralling. It’s more atmospheric, more darkly melodic, more blackened in its heaviness, and through it all, possibly more frightening.
Songs of the Year
Cave Sermon – “Ancient for Someone”
Panopticon – “A Letter”
Panopticon – “The Poppies Bloom For No King”
Patristic – “A Vinculis Soluta II”
Qrixkuor – “The Womb of the World”
Bianca – “Abysmal”
Deafheaven – “The Garden Route”
Nephylim – “Amaranth”
Clouds – “Sorrowbound”
1914 – “1918 Pt 3 A.D.E (A Duty to Escape)”
Der Weg Einer Freiheit – “Marter”
Primitive Man – “Natural Law”
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