After releasing a trifecta of second-wave royalty in A Blaze in the Northern Sky, Under a Funeral Moon, and Transilvanian Hunger — hell, I’ll even throw in the coup de grace, Panzerfaust — what exactly would have been left for them to achieve? I love Total Death and Plaguewielder, but they never quite did live up to their greatest works. I think the guys knew that, too.

Look, three and a half decades is more than enough time to send metal fans into a frenzy. If you’ve followed the Darkthrone trajectory over the last five or six albums, that anecdote proves true as fans seemingly line up with pitchforks every time they drop something in the vein of trad/doom/speed metal.

So it goes.

That fact of the matter is that there’s beautiful heavy metal history in contemporary Darkthrone. Via the mighty riff, Arctic Thunder, Old Star, Eternal Hails, Astral Fortress, It Beckons Us All, and now Pre-Historic Metal, are museums of ‘80s — and even some ‘70s — lore. Album title aside, the influences are right there front and center. Big fan of Mercyful Fate? Well, you should love “They Found One of My Graves” and its not-so-subtle nod to Don’t Break the Oath’s “A Dangerous Meeting.” Or maybe you’re a fan of Celtic Frost’s To Mega Therion? Yeah, you’ll find that here, too, specifically on the title track, “Pre-Historic Metal.” Fenriz’ drum patterns were made for a Tom G. Warrior OOUGH. And while I might understand being turned away — vocals-wise — by Fenriz’ John Cryiis impression, you’re still thumped by a Nocturno Culto shoutout and subsequent necro-vocals in the final two minutes.

Then, there’s the Manilla Road Crystal Logic riffage. In fact, there’s a plethora of Mark Shelton influence throughout — see “Siberian Thaw.” Speaking of which, after a few listens, “Siberian Thaw” is their best track since 2019’s “The Hardship of the Scots.” That “SIBERIAN THAW. SIBERIAN THAW. SIBERIAN THAW…” chant is absolutely GOAT’d and would absolutely crush in the live setting we’ll never have the privilege of seeing.

All of that said, in many ways, this album’s closest relative would probably be Old Star. I started picking up on that when flipping to the B-side. “Deeply Rooted” has some of Nocturno Culto’s coolest vocal moments that bring a similar raspiness. Then, on songs like “The Dry Wells of Hell,” there are nods to Judas Priest’s Stained Class — see JP’s “Saints in Hell.” Very melodic, catchy, and sprinkled with Fenriz’ singing, you’ll hear an homage or continuation of the band’s 2019 track “The Key Is Inside the Wall.” Of course, it’d only make sense if some moments sounded like a progression from what they were building on 2024’s It Beckons Us All. “Eat Eat Eat Your Pride” conjures up similar riff ideas found on “Howling Primitive Colonies” and “Black Dawn Affiliation.” The back-and-forth between chunky power chord riffs and tremolo picking fits Nocturno Culto’s guitar tone perfectly. “Eon 4” bestows that to a T as well.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I understand if this era of the band isn’t for you. Seriously, I do. It’s easy to hold a band to an impossible standard — I do it, too. But A Blaze in the Northern Sky came out more than three decades ago. At some point, you have to let it go.

As for Darkthrone, I genuinely enjoy their recent material — and, maybe more importantly, I appreciate what they’re doing. No trends. No bullshit. Just two guys making the music they want, completely on their own terms.

Sure, Pre-Historic Metal isn’t perfect. The drums could pop a tad more, sometimes finding themselves buried beneath the guitars. At times, the vocal back-and-forth between Nocturno Culto and Fenriz may seem disorganized, but, to be fair, it lends the album character and sets it apart from the last few albums. They continue stacking little nuances here and there, and that’s cool with me. I think that’s way more important than catering to a bunch of folks on the internet.

I’ll stand on this: Too many people seek perfection to fall in love with an album.

I’ve rambled on here, so I’ll conclude with the same words I left regarding It Beckons Us All: For the old-school metal faithful, Pre-Historic Metal is for you. It’s another Darkthrone album full of memorable riffs, vocal performances, and throwbacks to the icons that shaped heavy music as we know it today. It’s pretty damn good.

Instead of holding the guys to the standards of yesteryear, cherish the fact that we still have them around. Too many legends have moved on to another plane of existence as of late.

Oh, and one last thing.

The first dinosaur to be scientifically described and named was Megalosaurus in 1824 by British naturalist William Buckland.

America’s first president, George Washington, died in 1799. He never knew dinosaurs existed. Crazy, right?

Even more depressing, Darkthrone formed in 1986. So, George Washington never knew Darkthrone existed.

But you, my friends, you know.

How lucky…

At the very least, luckier than the dinos…

Asteroids, am I right?

The post Darkthrone – Pre-Historic Metal Review appeared first on Last Rites.

To this day, because of the Murderer’s Row of ’80s Bay Area thrash masterpieces, someone, somewhere, is plugging a cheap guitar into an old amplifier for the first time. And someone, somewhere, is cutting the sleeves off their favorite denim jacket. And someone, somewhere, is cutting their hair in the style of James Hetfield’s classic silhouette.

A continent away, Newcastle’s Venom was making waves in their own regard. Welcome to Hell and Black Metal procured an equally fast yet darker rendition of thrash and speed metal that paved the way for one of the scene’s most sinister and notorious subgenres – you know which one.

Then, there’s, well…Motörhead. And they play rock ‘n’ roll, as you know.

The latter was by far his best effort, both in performance and in theme. McBain is talented. There’s no denying that. And again, the albums are a blast. And as much as I enjoy Hellripper and preach the good word, I can understand why some folks may see the blackened thrash tag and bounce. It’s been done before, time and time again. For that simple reason, I cannot fault them. But shouldn’t we want more bands to crack beer cans over our heads to? Shouldn’t we be rooting for the next Midnight to listen to while breaking the speed limit in our ’86 IROC-Zs? After all, there’s something to be said about keeping tradition alive and well. McBain does just that – and more – on Coronach, his first release since leaving the legendary Peaceville Records for metal juggernaut Century Media.

In its own weird way, Coronach is just as dark as it is triumphant. “Hunderprest” fires away almost immediately. Based on the legend of the vampire of Melrose Abbey, the opener is a mashup of everything from Rotting Christ to more d-beat influences. McBain even adds some cool synths in the vein of something off Tribulation’s The Horror. Speaking of which, you can hear a lot of Johannes Andersson in the vocal shrieks, but you probably already knew that if you’re familiar with Hellripper. If not, enjoy! While north of five minutes, McBain conjured up a track for those of us with a case of ADHD. Chaotic, sure, but weirdly organized in how it bounces around. And, of course, it wouldn’t be Hellripper without a sweet solo to round it out. Then, “Kinchyle (Goatkraft and Granite)” opens with a riff that would have fit perfectly on Midnight’s Satanic Royalty. In other words, cue up the kegstands. McBain does a nice job adding layers to break up the black ‘n’ roll with some acoustic instrumentation, too. They add more pizzazz to the second half of the track, which eventually becomes the most anthemic song on the record.

“The Art of Resurrection” bestows what really separates Coronach from its predecessors. Over the years, McBain has continued to chisel away at pacing and sonic storytelling. The third offering starts softly, following the party-thrasher before it, featuring keys that build up to a hellish scream and a Kreator-ridden riff. Some splashes of color fall into the hands of beautiful arpeggios that you’ll really appreciate with a nice set of headphones. In its own regard – and a bit shorter – it reminds me of the escalation from Agent Steel’s “Chosen to Stay”. Moreover, at the album’s halfway point, “Baobhan Sith (Waltz of the Damned)” sticks out like a necrotic thumb. Not just because it’s arguably the most obliterating track for the majority, but there’s a ’70s-style guitar solo/transition in its final minutes that almost sounds like something Kansas would’ve conjured up on Point of Know Return. It’s such an epic, proggy conclusion to the A-side. What’s more – selfishly – it proves my earlier point that McBain continues to scale as a songwriter. Clearly, he wanted to throw some more ideas into the mix this time around, and, man, they work flawlessly.

From the debut to now, there’s a substantial difference. It’s almost like someone else is behind the fretboard. That said, the crust-punkish “Motorcheyn” throws nods to bands like Skitsystem, with brushes of Watain.

While there are new ideas thrown in there, old Hellripper fans will find songs like Slayer’s “The Antichrist”-inspired “Sculptor’s Cave” or the Motörhead-esque “Blakk Satanik…” much to their liking.

Coronach concludes with the title track. Much slower in BPM than the prior seven songs, there’s a more dreary vibe. The harmonized leads, the deep growls, and power metal-like epic passages all combine for McBain’s greatest feat yet. He may have learned a thing or two from those Maiden guys and saving the best for last and whatnot *insert face with monocle emoji*.

Before Coronach, I may have recommended Hellripper solely for fans of the blackened thrash niche. But now, it seems – to me at least – that if McBain continues progressing at this pace, Hellripper has all the makings of a metal powerhouse. He still fits within his respective subgenre, of course, but songwriters like him eventually tend to thrive outside of their realm.

This is a phenomenal release, and as you might have guessed, the project’s best yet. No longer just a band for fans of blackened thrash, Hellripper is for those of you caught in the sounds of yesteryear, but also for those seeking stellar contemporary metal. Years down the road, I expect this one to be the album folks look back on, pinpointing it as the moment the Hellripper name really started making waves. That first U.S. tour – whenever it may be – won’t hurt either. But, for now, do yourself a favor and bask in one hell of an album in Coronach.

The post Hellripper – Coronach Review appeared first on Last Rites.

So, whenever I stumble upon a killer new record, it serves as a friendly reminder that there is indeed peace in chaos.

Pardoxical, sure.

However, the warm production is like slurping on chicken noodle soup, but at the same time, like chomping down on a Carolina Reaper dipped in ghost pepper sauce.

From the get-go, “Dissonance Corporeum” bounces in with a reverse buildup before crashing through the wall with Ozempic-resistant riffs of flat-out chunkiness. There’s mixing and mashing tremolos and power-chord plunges. Fun, fun, fun. But the work behind the kit really sets the tone for the remainder of the record, methinks. There are these little intricate rolls and crashes between chord changes mid-riff that help emphasize the guttural vocal cadences.

If we fast-forward to “Collapsing Spiritual Nebula,” C.M.’s drumming is indeed influenced by Chris Reifert of, obviously, Autopsy fame. Much of that probably boils down to how well the band, and C.M., in particular, manage the eloquent tempo changes in the vein of something like a Severed Survival or Mental Funeral. While there’s certainly some of that, I wouldn’t go as far as to say that it’s Autopsy-worship. You’ll find some Incantation in there, too, primarily in the riff construction, with the focal point being the John McEntee-esque tremelo riffs with a few power chord chugs on the tail end — check out “Irradiated Self,” for example.

But there are some other little nuances that you’ll pick up on if you’re paying close attention — and I think this says a lot about Ectovoid’s attention to detail — but layers of texture, like the subtle arrpegios on “Intrusive Illusions (Echoes from a Distant Plane),” or the faint, whispered voice on “Formless Seeking Form” — throw some brushes of cosmic creepiness into the equation (much like that Paolo Giardi painting on the cover art). Also, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention that sweet solo during the latter half of “Formless…”

The album really comes into form just two tracks later on “In Unreality’s Coffin.” Without question, the most evil-sounding song on the record, the title track is as chaotic — in a good way — as it is structured. C.B’s Ross Dolan-ish guttural vocal work, especially during the breakdown around the two-minute mark, is a gut-punch. Along with the rhythm guitar duo of C.B. and C.S., it’s quite groovy and would demolish in a live setting. But, holistically, the track’s pacing is strong, pulling and pushing between breakneck speeds and stank-face-inducing mid-pace riffs. Again, I definitely had the most fun throughout these four minutes.

Speaking of pacing, “It Is Without Shape” is a quality instrumental that makes way for “In Anguished Levitation,” the coup de grace. In their typical fashion, Ectovoid brings more of that Mental Funeral influence, along with some traces of Immolation’s Atonement, so super quality stuff to round things out. At its core, the final two songs are reminders of just how well the album is structured sequence-wise and within the confines of each individual song. As you’ll hear on “In Anguished Levitation,” it’s a nice sendoff after 35-plus minutes of being pulled back and forth between respite and suffocation.

Overall, Ectovoid delivers a strong start to 2026 with a death metal album that appeals to both longtime fans and noobs. And whether you enjoy old-school death metal or simply gravitate towards catchy, riff-heavy music, this LP is accessible and right up your alley, or metal up your ass, for a cooler descriptor. Simply put, if you’re looking for some extreme music comfort food, prepare to feast. Like the great soup of chicken, In Unreality’s Coffin is a timeless dish. And like the great soup of chicken, you shall enjoy.

The post Ectovoid – In Unreality’s Coffin Review appeared first on Last Rites.

I’ll just dive into it.

I’m not sure what it means to be human anymore.

Over the last year, I’ve tried to reflect on what exactly it means to walk this plane of existence. And this isn’t some grand, abstract philosophical undertaking, but more of a personal journey to understand and make sense of whatever the hell is going on here. For my own sanity, I guess.

Much of this journey is due to the fact that I’m so sick of the dehumanization of virtually everything. We live in a world where we, the average earth dwellers, are just glanced over in terms of our opinions on where we’re taking this spinning rock, simply because we lack the monetary means to have a thought worth considering.

Without further burying the lede, the advent of something as grandiose as AI holds the promise of the greatest technological shift in the history of mankind.

However, this innovation may fundamentally challenge or even undermine the essence of what it means to be human.

It’s worth asking if you’re okay with that.

When you read headlines about big changes coming to the workforce or the arts, remember that regular people like you and I weren’t asked if we wanted AI to be a part of everything we do.

Again, it’s worth asking if you’re okay with that.

I want to be clear: I’m not trying to sit on my soapbox and shake my fist at new technology. I’m old enough to remember the internet and social media booms. My parents witnessed the space race. My grandparents saw the rise of the automotive industry. But artificial intelligence seems to be the first advancement built to replace humans…entirely.

I’m not okay with that.

Oh, and another thing: I’m sick of how numb we’ve all become. And maybe that’s why you aren’t asking yourself the important question as to whether or not you’re okay with where things are headed.

The 24-hour news cycle.

Dispute after dispute.

Tragedy after tragedy.

Rinse.

Repeat.

For many, human emotion – the ability to feel empathy – is dwindling. I’d advise you to do everything in your power to maintain that feeling. Allow yourself to detach from the virtual world. Walk through a local art exhibit. Strike up a friendly conversation at the farmer’s market. Hear live music. Do something that plants your feet in the here and now. These things are the remnants of what it means to feel.

In 2025, I realized that the more I tried to understand all of this, the more pessimistic I felt. But then I realized that, somehow, things tend to work themselves out. Our existence is a testament to that. In its own weird way, humanity prevails.

Remember, your anger is a gift. And we don’t have to settle for a world that we’re not okay with.

Anyway, here are my favorite albums from 2025 that helped me make sense of the clusterhell.

NOT AI SLOP (PTS. 20-11)

20. Araphel – The Enchanter

The post Best Of 2025: Blizzard Of Jozzsh – Your Anger Is A Gift appeared first on Last Rites.

A songwriter simply dubbing the name “M.” writes and records everything. To this day, even in the Metal Archives, a single letter sits beneath the “Members” tab. 

Despite a live debut in 2021, his US performances were few and far between, comprised mostly of one-off shows and festival performances (I caught the set at Hell’s Heroes in 2024 – phenomenal, I’ll add); however, that changed this past fall when M. and his live crew trekked across North America with Blackbraid and Dödsrit for his first large-scale tour in the States. 

While yes, the above does add to the mystique of the Lamp of Murmuur project, the music remains a mystery, too. And that’s more so what I’ll focus on here. 

Lamp really made waves back in 2020 with Heir of Ecliptical Romanticism, a record much in the vein of rawer ‘90s Norwegian black metal with a dose of Dead Can Dance, featuring superbly catchy melodies and synths. M. leaned even more into the Dead Can Dance realm in 2021 with his finest release to date, Submission and Slavery, a goth rock/black metal blend. Nonetheless, a return to a heavily ‘90s Norwegian sound was ushered in in 2023, with nods to the legendary Immortal and At the Heart of Winter  on Saturnian Bloodstorm. So, while it does indeed remain a mystery as to which depths of music Lamp of Murmuur decides to descend, his roots seem to hold time and time again. 

The project’s newest release, The Dreaming Prince in Ecstasy, certainly is no different in terms of pulling from the threads of yesteryear. The first single, “Forest of Hallucinations,” seemed to foretell an Old Man’s Child influence was around the bend, and while true at times, M. seems to mesh pretty much everything from the band’s past into one. Sure, “Forest..” definitely captures the essence of In Defiance of Existence more than anything in a more granular sense, but the Dimmu Borgir symphonic side shines through, too. M. also finds a lot of texture in the galloping Immortal triplets overlaying his signature synths, but this time, it sounds more intentionally cinematic than it has in the past. On “Hategate (The Dream Master’s Realm),” he yet again leans heavily into the goth/post punk world with a Dead Can Dance-ish conclusion backed by some deep clean vocals hummed along to a heavy dose of even more synths and lead guitar work, all making for a nice throwback to his Submission and Slavery sound. But, again, this alludes to a larger sonic story arc at play.

While “Reincarnation of the Witch” is a more meat-and-potatoes crockpot of traditional symphonic black metal, aside from the clean tone arpeggios on the backend, side B is where things really start to pick up. A trio of “The Dreaming Prince in Ecstasy” tracks are some of M.’s best works, comprised of some of his best moments. “The Dreaming Prince in Ecstasy, Pt. I – Moondance” sounds like a mashup of Killing Joke’s “Love Like Blood” and Old Man’s Child’s “Agony of Fallen Grace.” The song’s climax hits with clean leads built up by rapid-fire blast beats and haunting keys that sound like they could be dropped right into a David Lynch film. 

Then, “The Dreaming Prince in Ecstasy, Pt. II – Twilight Orgasm” seems to pay homage to Lamp’s classic rock influences. That guitar tone is reminiscent of David Gilmour’s ‘70s run. Lamp of Murmuur, for the first time, steers away from music made for nighttime rituals for tunes tailored for nighttime drives. No necro vocals, just a clear-cut goth/post punk composition. Moreover, its most significant accomplishment is not sounding too far out of left field. The songwriting up until this point allows these moments to feel like a natural progression into uncharted territory, if this could even be considered uncharted territory based on his past. Despite minimal vocals at all, it’s probably my favorite track on the album. 

The conclusion to the trilogy, “The Dreaming Prince in Ecstasy, Pt. III – The Fall” begins with a trance-inducing solo. And whether you admire M.’s works or not, you should objectively appreciate the musicianship. Speaking of objectivity, while it might not live up to the prior parts, part three eloquently reintroduces the black metal side back into the mix before a beautiful sendoff on The National-influenced “A Brute Angel’s Sorrow.” Again, it’s all deep, clean vocals here. The acoustic guitars aren’t too overshadowed by the keys and chimes. A piece of the larger picture, it’s a perfect ending. As mysteriously as the album started, it drifts off as such. 

Before I go any further: Trust me. I understand listening to Immortal rather than Immortal worship. I understand listening to Dimmu Borgir rather than Dimmu Borgir worship. I understand listening to Dead Can Dance rather than Dead Can Dance worship. And, sure, there’s a sub-sub-sub-genre for everything. So, what Lamp is doing isn’t necessarily all that novel. But I’ll also say this: It is incredibly easy for such genre-blending to fail, fall, and splatter. Here, that’s far from the case. 

Even for die-hard black metal devotees, there’s a dash of The Cure and Joy Division in the sorrowful music you hold so dear, if not in the sound itself, then certainly in spirit. While M. may stray from what some would call trve, the execution is, for lack of a better word, impeccable.

So, ask yourself, especially if you’re an unbeliever, what is there not to appreciate if not the darkness? Because here, darkness is all you’ll find. There is no light, and that’s precisely why it burns so brightly.

Call it what you want, but around these parts, The Dreaming Prince in Ecstasy is considered another stellar, mysterious chapter in the deservingly upwards-trending career of M. and Lamp of Murmuur.

The post Lamp Of Murmuur – The Dreaming Prince In Ecstasy Review appeared first on Last Rites.

Their new album, The Hardest Thing About Being God Is That No One Believes Me, is undoubtedly no different in terms of channeling emotion. Only this time, it seems even darker. 

Perhaps you’ll hear that on the opener, an intro as long as the album title itself, clocking in at more than 8 minutes. Sorrowful keys open “Arrows of Golden Light” before it bounces into grooving dissonance. A colossal bass adds some weight to the track — and the remainder of the record for that matter — and there are some absolutely killer leads that sit more so on the spookier side than pure melancholy. That early 2010s-era breakdown at the halfway point is a nice touch, too. 

Vocally, Blindfolded and Led to the Woods is probably more reminiscent of metal/deathcore, and while that might be a deal-breaker for some, I’d encourage you to walk into it with an open mind. It isn’t hokey like many bands from those particular genres; instead, it fits the mold with a mixture of harsh spoken-word passages, guttural growls, and primal shouts. “Cafuné” is a prime example, with vocal dynamics overlaying haunting seven-string and synth sounds. 

For fans of Ulcerate, you’ll find that songs like “Red” and “Black Orchids” present some familiar vibes. That is, if Ulcerate threw in some brootal, arm-flailing breakdowns. Speaking of which, that final one on “Black Orchids” is delicious. Similarly, there’s some killer shredding on “Compulsion” that sounds like a spiral into lunacy before another dissonant breakdown in the final minute. The guitar work, without a doubt, allows these moments to build and shine. That said, the album excels because the band leans into each member’s strong suits. Again, without the Stuart Henley-Minchington/Dan Huston guitar duo, Stace Fifield’s vocals probably wouldn’t pack the punches they ultimately throw. The same could be said about Anthony Coota’s quick-fire double bass on tracks like “Totem.” By the way, you can tell there’s some Jamie Saint Merat influence because the kit work has a cinematic cadence. 

“600 Milligrams” manages to blend the synths better than any other track on the record. Between that, the sinister cackles in the fade-out, and the broken chords, it sounds like something straight out of a horror/thriller. It’s a pretty wicked tune.

Finally, “Coalescence” manages to simmer the album down momentarily before the most grotesque scream on the album howls out. Put simply, Blindfolded and Led to the Woods saved their best track for the finale. Featuring guitar trills, numerous breakdowns, tech-death scales, angelic clean vocals — the whole shebang — the band tastefully dip their toes into various territories in the final moments. 

Overall, The Hardest Thing About Being God Is That No One Believes Me sounds much more pessimistic than its predecessor. You could say it’s the yin to Rejecting Obliteration’s yang. Nonetheless, it’s another outstanding release from the New Zealanders, and one that will keep you enthralled from beginning to end. Here, there’s no technicality for the sake of technicality — only chaos for the sake of feeling. 

Photo by Hudson Visuals

The post Blindfolded And Led To The Woods – The Hardest Thing About Being God Is That No One Believes Me Review appeared first on Last Rites.

Indianapolis’ appropriately named Graveripper is a combination of two of my favorite things: extreme metal and Hoosier hostility. Now, the black thrash ‘n’ roll outfit has been heavily covered here at Last Rites, so I probably shouldn’t waste your time with a deep dive, but for those unfamiliar with the band, think Lemmy sporting corpse paint and barking over Carpathian Forest-inspired riffs. 

“From Welkin to Tundra is a blackened, cold, furious assault that captures Graveripper’s distinct style of blending black and thrash metal better than any release yet,” says vocalist/guitarist Corey Parks. “From the dreadful opening track to the blazing ‘burn the house down’ closer, this record is a sonic assault of black thrash ‘n’ roll that I am very proud of.”

Point-blank, From Welkin to Tundra is cold. While the intro track may be more in the vein of The Mantle rather than Black Shining Leather, “Bring Upon Pain” is more reminiscent of Carpathian Forest — catchy riffs and memorable rock ‘n’ roll grooves. Its strongest attribute is, without a doubt, the chorus. The tremolo riff is quintessential ‘90s black metal, and Parks’ vocals are on another level — throat-slicing raspiness but still clear enough to decipher the message. “Hexenhammer” briefly veers off into triumphant black metal territory with that intro riff, but bounces into a black/thrash realm thereafter. That palm-muted chug in the verse adds a nice splash of color to the track, too. And maybe that’s another quality I appreciate here. Graveripper does a hell of a job meshing various extreme metal genres together, much like the Aura Noirs and Midnights before them. Even the thrashier moments aren’t truly thrash metal, and the more black metal moments really aren’t black metal to a T. 

Again, while this might be their most black metal offering to date — I mean just listen for the Immortal vibes on “Death’s Cold Embrace” — the band somehow sticks to their own musical Frankenstein. The same goes for the black thrash attack on “…And Now It’s Dark,” “Sanctioned Slaughter,” and “Hounds from Hell,” the latter of which sounds like a nod to contemporary Aura Noir. Speaking of which, if you asked me to place a bullet-laden crown upon one moment on From Welkin to Tundra, that honor belongs to the final 1:10 of “New Gods, New Masters,” featuring a riff that would’ve fit on just about any ‘80s Bay-area LP. 

While Parks’ influence is felt on each Graveripper release, I’d be remiss if I failed to mention the addition of Nick James’ contributions behind the kit here. He absolutely destroys the snare and kick throughout the album’s entirety, but perhaps nothing matches the ferocity of “Bullet Laden Crown.” It’s nearly four and a half minutes of breakneck work and the best drumming performance on any Graveripper release — top-notch stuff. 

There are no signs of a sophomore slump here. As great of a debut as Seasons Dreaming Death is, it doesn’t match the sheer brutality of From Welkin to Tundra, marking it as Graveripper’s finest release yet. From the holistic performances by the band to the nods to various avenues of extreme metal, it’s a downright punishing yet anthemic offering. Enjoy the moments screaming along to the lyrics, mimicking the solos, headbanging to the rhythm section, and starting a makeshift circle pit in any given room it blares over the speakers — two frostbitten thumbs up.

The post Graveripper – From Welkin To Tundra Review appeared first on Last Rites.

Fires in the Fall: I still marvel at it. 

So when I saw the band announce their new record Stormcaller — their first since making the move from Indianapolis’ Wise Blood Records to Pennsylvania’s Willowtip  — it immediately piqued my interest. But they were faced with the challenge of the follow-up to their most substantial effort. Not to mention, Fires in the Fall was 20 years in the making. And then, I saw this quote:

“When we started writing the songs that would make up Stormcaller, our intention was to create the most complete Krigsgrav album that took something from every era of the band, while still pushing our sound forward. A culmination of the blackest hues, doomiest of dirges, and most soaring of lead guitars. We think we achieved that, but we also wrote the best album of our career thus far. We trust that when you hear it, you’ll agree.”

Perhaps one of my greatest flaws as a music fan is my unrealistic expectations. I wrote about that in my Darkthrone Diamonds & Rust feature. Unfairly, I compare bands to their past and best albums. Darkthrone, obviously. Metallica. The list goes on. But I hold those records so closely. In many ways, without sounding too dramatic, it’s like clinching to the air I breathe. I’ve tried to refrain from doing that over the last few years, though. 

And I kept that in mind going into Stormcaller. 

But “Huntress of the Fire Moon” sounds like it picks up right where Fires in the Fall left off. The production — yet again so strong — allows David Sikora’s drumming to shine. The snare claps like iron fists slamming a frozen table. The bass drum hits like a sledgehammer to the chest. Justin Coleman’s necro vocals cut through the mix like death wrapped in razor wire. Cody Daniels’ leads are simply grandiose. Wes Radvansky’s bass rounds out the low-end to bring it all together. Throughout its duration, you’ll notice nods to The Somberlain in its melody. And oddly, I can hear some Carpathian Forest influence in its intensity. While “Huntress of the Fire Moon” is probably the most uptempo track on the record, the title track isn’t far behind. Daniels knocks out some of his most triumphant sections on the album, specifically at the two-minute mark, and the back half of the song allows Coleman to bestow impassioned yelps for the “stormcaller” before breaking down into one of the record’s first doom passages. 

For longtime Krigsgrav followers, the atmospheric black metal vibes are at an all-time high on “Twilight Fell,” hitting like Wolves in the Throne Room’s Primordial Arcana or something of the like. Then, “None Shall Remember Your Name” drops into the fold with The Mantle era Agalloch necromancy, particularly noted by Sikora’s clean vocals and the acoustic guitar layers. While it doesn’t stick out too much, bits and pieces of “The Tonic of Wilderness” remind me of a more upbeat Dance of December Souls or Gothic. But the band saved their most melodic doom-ridden track for the finale. Everything from My Dying Bride to Paradise Lost to Katatonia are found within the DNA of “Womb:Death:Dawn.” While a tough outing to match the grandeur of Fires in the Fall’s “Alone with the Setting Sun,” this one puts up quite the fight. 

Over the last few weeks, I’ve asked myself countless times if Stormcaller eclipses the sheer colossal nature of Fires in the Fall. At this point, I’m unsure if it even matters, because at the very least, it’s just as impressive. I do know that with four months left in 2025, it’ll take a murder’s row of releases to knock this one out of my top five.

Photo Credit: Gabe Alvarez

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