Italy has taken the alt-music world by storm in recent years. Whether it is Måneskin’s 2021 Eurovision win with ‘ZITTI E BUONI’ which later became a worldwide hit, or Marlene Kuntz’s incredibly well-received 2022 album, Karma Clima, the Italians seem to be producing liquid gold. And Stormo is no exception. The quartet exemplifies what alt music should be, with Tagli/Talee entailing a brash mix of the acidity of noise rock and the puncture that post-hardcore possesses, with these genres amalgamating into a homunculus of an album. ‘Tagli’ becomes the cornerstone of the whole album. It’s a deeply melancholic rumble of the guitar. The drip of passion it exhibits entices you, leaving you hungry and hollow for more. It is the shallow end of the pool, allowing the listener to tread in safe waters before that agonising spirit of Stormo plunges you into the deep. The growl of the instrumental morphs into the fervour expected from a Stormo album as ‘Sabbia’ begins to play. ‘Sabbia’ satiates this hunger. Pounding drum work is layered with riffs in this song, exemplifying how adept the band is with their work. Every auditory manipulation is evidently purposeful, with these overlapping vocals becoming a cacophony, surrounding the listener from all angles. A real standout moment can be found with ‘Kallitype’. In many ways, this album is a collage. Written exclusively on the road during their 2023 European tour, Tagli/Talee is a collage of cities, venues, and people they have visited and seen all morphing into one work of art. ‘Kallitype’ reflects this composition, intertwining elements from so many genres into this one unification of a song. Stormo avoids all the common pitfalls seen in the genres they cross, the vocals do not appear to be forced in any way, and, in fact, sounds like a much-needed release. The moment vocalist Luca Rocco opens his mouth, rage inherent from the very soul of his being torrents out as the floodgate opens. The influence of horror is tangible throughout ‘Come Fauce Che Divora’. Adrenaline cuts into you thanks to the fractured elements of the track. The grating noise bites into you, with the tension seeping through every hit of the drums (courtesy of drummer Stefano Rutolini) matching the pace of blood pumping through your ears. In many ways, it wouldn’t be out of place in a horror film chase scene, with an overlapping of sound akin to the scraping of shoes on tarmac and a rustle of feet through the underbrush. It’s tangibly visceral due to the deliberate use of texture achieved through the symbiotic work of Stormo and Holy Similaun. ‘Bordi’ is another standout, as passion punctures through everything, building and building until this great escape of emotions. The only thing this writer dislikes about the album is how painfully short it is. No track breaks past the two-and-a-half-minute mark. It left us seeking more, wanting more, needing more. And there is one snag that we found upsettingly unable to overcome when assimilating with this album; that is, the writer doesn’t speak Italian. The most Italian thing to be found is probably the Pizza Express that was drunkenly ordered the other night - unlike that Pizza Express, Tagli/Talee is some Italian that is bound to not disappoint. However, even without any comprehensive knowledge - or frankly any knowledge at all of how to speak Italian - this album still spoke to me in ways I never thought a piece of music could. And that’s the thing about music, it transcends all language. Every strum of the guitar reaches out a loving hand to you, every strike of the drum whispers faintly in your ear and every guttural uttering of the vocals cups your cheeks in an ever-so-familiar way. Stormo has this formidable talent of defying all linguistic bands, becoming their very own Tower of Babel. This is music that knows you, understands you, is you. The transcendent rage the album explores is one that everyone has reckoned with in their life. Just let it wash over you. Score: 9/10 Tagli/Talee was released March 21st via Prosthetic Records. Words: Dylan Milton Photos: Stormo

Weighted by the inexplicable grief of losing one’s mother, Euphrosyne have repurposed that burdened blanket, woven the most beautifully haunting melodies into the fabric, and bundled that black metal onslaught into Morus. It’s a catharsis unlike any other. The debut album – with Efi Eva on vocals, lead guitarist Alex Despotidits, Stelios Pepinidis on drums, and bassist George Gazis – permeates your very being with the emotional depth of every note, a meticulous measuring of intensity that leaves you breathless in its wake. Title track ‘Morus’ lulls you into this serene soundscape of spoken word; although it is no less suffocating in its simplicity, it’s perhaps the most profound depiction of melancholic tension that the album reflects. The liminality of mourning crescendos into ‘July 21st' and we have the visceral introduction of vocals. A pitter-pattering of piano keys orchestrates the fray of violin whispers before Eva lets out an anguished scream, creating an almost tangible sense of grief. We’re barreling through a form of melodeath, with drums going ten to the dozen and some truly stunning lead guitar work, leaving no stone unturned. ‘Valley of White’ diligently rotates this Grecian urn of an album. Distorted riffs shift between brutality and beauty before transitioning into a melodic minor of musing, and it is beautiful. Almost industrial in its heaviness, Eva’s soaring vocals somehow add a tranquility to the blackened fury. Whether that be the doom-laden chords or the primal screams that feel like they’re coming from a place of unimaginable pain, the dynamics on this song are tight and masterfully weave together atmospherics with a crushing heaviness. The way Euphrosyne uses space and silence to build tension is nothing short of masterful. Arguably the most poignant peak of the album is ‘Mitera’. Sung entirely in Greek, the quietude of the track is still a cacophony of noise both introspective and imposing, yet it captures the essence of post-black metal in a way that feels almost spiritual. Despotidis seems to carry this weight of despondency with each twang of the plectrum until Eva’s vocals - intertwining themselves so comfortingly within the strings - pierce through to release that hope in one fell swoop. This impression is erased when the band resumes its dark dissonance on ‘Funeral Rites’. Exploding into a blistering assault of melodic abrasion, the rhythms howl with heart wrench. It is guttural. In fact, one of the most striking aspects of Morus is Eva’s incredible range and versatility; her ability to seamlessly transition between clean, serene vocals and harsh, tortured screams is awe-inspiring. Many bands would need two vocalists to capture the emotional range that Eva conveys on her own. You can feel the pain and sincerity in every note she sings - especially when she’s tackling such a raw, difficult subject matter - that we truly believe she’s taking the genre to new places. The track is one of the album’s most contrasting, letting its ominous tones haunt the entirety of its riffs, yet that is before ‘Asphodel’ and its gentle melody grows bolder. It’s an overwhelming soliloquy to death and the perfectly accompanying haunting vocals that grow in scope. We find ourselves arriving at our final destination of ‘Lilac Ward’, a sprawling soundscape of eight minutes. Euphrosyne lose themselves between these textures that will surely differentiate them later on in their career and it is pure catharsis. Offering closure to the pain that has bled through every track before it, it’s clear they don’t shy away from the weight of its subject matter. The grandeur of these Greek artists and how they distill every note, every scream, every guitar line into a visceral experience is truly commendable. Morus is an album that doesn’t just take you through its themes of loss and grief - it forces you to feel them. There’s an underlying sense of finality to every track, a relentless march toward something inevitable; even when the band brings their sound down to a whisper, there’s always the looming sense that something heavier is on the horizon. Euphrosyne have crafted something truly unique - the pain that Despotidis and Eva have poured into this music is palpable - and it’s this emotional depth that makes the album so compelling. We imagine that Morus will find a place in many listeners’ rotations during moments of mourning and personal reflection. An ode on a Grecian record. Score: 8/10 Morus was released on March 21st 2025 via Black Lion Records. Words: Talia Robinson Photos: Euphrosyne

UK metalcore newcomers Iron Form burst onto the scene with their debut EP, Cut From Cold Blood, a blistering 20-minute assault of relentless drumming, sharp guitar work, and emotionally charged vocals. With a pedigree that includes members of Svalbard, Handcuff, and Eulogy, the band brings experience and intensity, channeling the raw energy of early 2000's metalcore and post-hardcore. While the EP doesn’t always push boundaries, it still offers plenty of moments that showcase Iron Form’s raw potential. From the opening moments of 'New History', it’s clear that Iron Form isn’t holding anything back. The track explodes immediately, setting an unrelenting pace with pummelling drums and forceful guitar riffs. The solo towards the end adds a welcome flourish, briefly breaking up the relentless intensity before the song slams to a close. It’s a solid introduction that establishes the band’s sound, even if it treads a well-worn path. 'Spirit Rain' introduces a short spoken-word section before launching into its razor-sharp instrumentation. The guitars are relentless, feeling almost like a barrage of bullets, piercing through the track with precision. However, the song struggles to maintain momentum, settling into a pattern that feels repetitive. While undeniably aggressive, it lacks the dynamic shifts needed to make it stand out among the EP’s offerings. 'Vengeance Prayer' picks up the pace again, delivering a fast and punishing assault. The brief slow down halfway through, featuring another spoken-word section, attempts to add a dramatic pause but ultimately feels more like a brief interruption rather than a moment of true impact. The track does its job but doesn’t leave a lasting impression, failing to bring a distinct identity to the table. The EP’s standout moment comes with 'Become The Blade', a track that fully embraces its mix of melodic hardcore and alternative metal. The metallic riff that kicks off the song is an immediate attention-grabber, and the subtle technical flourishes in the background add a welcome depth. The cymbal-heavy drumming enhances the overall energy, making this one of the more memorable and well-crafted tracks on the record. Closing with the titular 'Cut From Cold Blood', the EP ends on its strongest note. The introduction builds anticipation before diving into some of the most engaging instrumentals on the record. The interplay between the guitar and rhythm section feels particularly tight here, and the instrumental passage around the two-thirds mark adds a unique texture that sets this track apart. It’s a glimpse of Iron Form at their best - blending intensity with just enough nuance to keep things fresh. Cut From Cold Blood is an aggressive, tightly executed debut that establishes Iron Form as a band with plenty of potential. While some tracks blend together, the EP still delivers in terms of sheer energy and strong musicianship. Tracks like 'Become The Blade' and 'Cut From Cold Blood' hint at exciting possibilities for the band’s future, showing what they’re capable of when they add more dynamics to their songwriting. For fans of early 2000's metalcore, this EP is a solid entry that pays distinct homage to its influences, whilst attempting to carve out a space of its own. With time and further refinement, Iron Form has the tools to develop into something even more distinctive. Cut From Cold Blood is a solid first effort, but whether it’s a lasting one remains to be seen. Score: 5/10 Cut From Cold Blood will be released on March 21st 2025 via Church Road Records. Words: Jason De Mendonca Photos: Iron Form

North East alt-rock outfit Decrepit Youths have been stunning us over the past year with release after release of top tier singles, taking clear inspiration from a wide range of artists such as Bring Me The Horizon, Don Broco and Bad Omens. Although their inspiration is obvious, they have a distinctly unique sound thanks to their dual vocalists. This Friday brings the release of their debut EP Love Psycho Kill Machine - a compilation of two previously released singles, and one brand new track. The title track and lead single ‘Love Psycho Kill Machine’ opens the record with a driving guitar riff that sets the tone for the whole song - loud. While the track does rise and fall in energy between the verses, bridges and choruses, it begs to be played as loudly as possible to truly feel the effect. Vocalists David Stoker and Connor Pattinson clearly put all of their energy into this recording with truly angry vocals that perfectly compliment the song, offset by the calm and clean female voice narrating throughout. Their latest release ‘Black Dove’ is arguably their best to date, opening with a massive melodic, almost operatic vocal with synth and layered overdriven guitars backing, all topped off by an intense beat provided by Thomas Lee on the drums. The track bounces between a high energy, post-metalcore sound, akin to more recent Bring Me The Horizon releases, and a bridge that sounds like it could have been pulled straight from A Nightmare Before Christmas (excluding the frequent expletives), which is then followed by a synth laden breakdown. This is hands down one of our favourite tracks from the group, and we hope to hear more like it. The third and final track on the EP is ‘Monster and Me’, which again clearly takes influence from a range of artists - combining clean piano melodies with heavy distorted guitars and screaming vocals. The quality of the track is well beyond what a band of this size has any right to produce, and has clearly had a huge amount of work put into it. Overall the EP leaves us only wanting to hear more, and to see how the band develops their sound over their coming releases. If you’re a fan of an angry sound, and music that is clearly fuelled by rage and lust then this is definitely one to listen to. We can't wait to see what they come out with next, and to see how they transfer the energy they put into the recording of this EP into their live performances. If this is the quality they can produce with just three songs then we eagerly await a fully fledged album. Score: 9/10 Love Psycho Kill Machine was released on March 21st 2025. Words: Chris Brown Photos: Decrepit Youth

After a seven-year hiatus, Polish prog-metallers Bright Ophidia return with their first studio album since 2017’s Fighting The Gravity. Recorded at Lagrune Studio, this long-awaited release explores the ins and outs of human emotion, charting the highs and lows of our inner struggles. For the uninitiated, Quiet and Calm marks Bright Ophidia’s fifth full-length release (alongside a handful of demos and singles). Over the years, the band have earned a place among prog metal’s elite, sharing festival lineups with Opeth, Dream Theater, and Haken - most notably at Prog in Park, Poland’s premier progressive music festival. With this latest release, Bright Ophidia continue refining their signature blend of compositional complexity and metallic aggression. The album blends together intricate, layered guitar work, unpredictable time signatures, and atmospheric textures into an energetic and evolving auditory experience. While the expected elements of their past work remain, there’s a renewed sense of urgency and emotional depth that helps in making this one of their most immersive offerings to date. The heavy incorporation of ethnic instruments and vocals via the appearance of several guest performers is a bold new evolution in their sound that deserves further exploration. There’s something truly special here, and hopefully, this new direction extends far beyond a single album. The early singles provided an intense glimpse into the album’s evolving direction, building anticipation over the years. Bright Ophidia have steadily released music videos leading up to this moment, starting with ‘In Your Eyes’ five years ago, followed by ‘Survive’ a year later, and most recently, the album’s opener ‘Anger’ last year. It’s been a long time coming, but with an album this meticulously crafted, the wait has been more than justified. Additional standout tracks include the title track ‘Quiet and Calm,’ and the album closer, ‘Rise.’ The ethnic instrumentals from featured guest performer Marek Papaj on ‘Rise’ beautifully mirror those in the opener, ‘Anger,’ creating a sense of cohesion that bookends the album perfectly. Meanwhile, ‘Quiet and Calm’ leans heavily into djent-inspired grooves, offering plenty for fans of prog’s younger, (debatably) heavier sibling. With Quiet and Calm, Bright Ophidia have delivered an album as impressively intricate as it is powerful. Showcasing true mastery of their genre with razor-sharp technicality and flawless production. Every riff, rhythm, and atmospheric layer feels meticulously placed, yet never at the expense of raw emotion. The perfectly refined production allows each element to breathe while maintaining the crushing intensity that defines their sound. What truly sets this album apart, however, is the band’s bold embrace of ethnic voices and instrumentation. Rather than feeling like a gimmick or a passing experiment, these elements are woven seamlessly into the music, adding depth and richness to the listening experience. It’s an exciting evolution—one that not only expands their sonic identity but also hints at an even more ambitious future. If this album is any indication, Bright Ophidia are just beginning to explore the full scope of their creative potential, and we can only hope that this direction continues to unfold in the years to come. Score: 8/10 Quiet and Calm will be released on March 28th 2025 via Via Nocturna. Words: Andrew Nile Photos: Bright Ophidia

Best known for his work as a guitarist and vocalist in transcendental black metal outfit Agriculture, Daniel Meyer’s solo debut Kneeling is a deeply immersive and texturally rich experience. Unlike Agriculture’s cathartic, soaring compositions, Kneeling is more intimate and experimental, embracing imperfections and layering sound to create a thick, almost tactile atmosphere. Split into two distinct halves, the album first explores an off-kilter, lo-fi indie rock approach before descending into dense, atmospheric black metal. Meyer describes the album as “huge piles” of sound, an approach that makes Kneeling feel both expansive and claustrophobic at the same time. The first half of the album leans into hazy indie rock, with songs wrapped in biblical allegory and distorted recollections. The production is deliberately rough around the edges, layering multiple takes over each other to create something that feels alive and constantly shifting. Opening track 'Ugly Man' sets the tone immediately. The vocals sound distant, as if coming from the other side of a wall, while the cymbals crash in an erratic, almost disorienting pattern. The subject matter - a surreal imagining of biblical punishment being inflicted upon Ron Jeremy - adds to the song’s off-kilter energy. '16 Angels' is one of the album’s most striking tracks, feeling mournful and deeply reflective. Meyer’s vocals drift softly through the mix, creating an almost hypnotic effect, like watching light dance on the surface of a lake. The lyrics, which depict a man donating blood to a group of angels, give the song a dreamlike, ritualistic quality. When the guitar solo finally pierces through the haze, its sharpness feels like a wound, cutting through the otherwise meditative atmosphere. The final song of Side A, 'Sacrificing a Calf', is deeply unsettling. Two guitars play slightly out of sync, creating a sense of unease, as if time itself is faltering. Meyer’s voice is soft and almost reassuring, but the lyrical content—a literal depiction of an Old Testament cattle sacrifice—lurks beneath the surface, making the song feel strangely ominous. Side B shifts dramatically into raw, atmospheric black metal all about LA, where Daniel abandons lyrics entirely in favor of wordless howls and screams. Meyer’s vocals blend so seamlessly into the distorted walls of guitar that they feel less like a human voice and more like another instrument, buried within the chaos. 'Blanket' feels like being trapped in a cave behind a waterfall, the sound of rushing water muffling the outside world while shadows dance across the walls. The droning guitars create an overwhelming, almost claustrophobic atmosphere, while Meyer’s vocals blend into the haze like distant echoes reverberating off the stone. There’s a sense of isolation here, a heavy, inescapable weight that settles in as the track unfolds. In contrast, 'The Beach' introduces a sense of space. The sound of whirring machinery hums beneath gentle piano, before Meyer’s agonized cries cut through the stillness like wind howling through an abandoned house. The track captures the feeling of solitude and decay, like standing alone on a shoreline, watching the tide pull away at something long forgotten. The album closes with 'A Great Man', an eerie and almost reverent piece. It begins with a haunting piano that echoes like a hymn in an empty cathedral. Then, midway through, Meyer’s screams shatter the stillness, turning the song into something raw and primal. It is a hauntingly beautiful end to an album that thrives on contrast, balancing moments of tranquility with overwhelming intensity. Kneeling is a bold and unconventional debut, embracing both beauty and chaos in equal measure. Rather than blending indie rock and black metal together, Meyer keeps them separate, allowing each half of the album to fully explore its own sonic world. This separation makes the contrast between them feel even more dramatic, as if crossing from one dimension into another. At times, the sheer density of Kneeling can feel overwhelming, particularly in the album’s second half, where the layers of distortion and droning guitars can start to blur together. However, this also feels like part of its intent - an album meant to be experienced as a whole, rather than dissected into individual songs. While its abstract approach may not be for everyone, Kneeling is a fascinating experiment in texture and atmosphere, an album that doesn’t just tell a story but makes you feel it. Score: 7/10 Kneeling will be released on March 28th 2025 via Another Side Records. Words: Jason De Mendonca Photos: Daniel Meyer

Cradle Of Filth have been an all-time favourite amongst gothic and black metal fans around the globe since they formed in 1991, and throughout their 34-year run they have released a staggering thirteen studio albums, two live albums, two compilation albums and four EPs. The band takes their time to curate and perfect every piece of art they create, and their brand new neck-breaking album The Screaming Of The Valkyries is absolutely no exception. The Screaming Of The Valkyries encompasses the same raging energy that the fans have come to know and love from the band, with nine brand new tracks to quench fans’ thirst for frontman Dani Filth’s feral growls. Starting the album off seriously strong is ‘To Live Deliciously’, a track that takes the concept of living your life to the fullest to dizzying new heights - expect ear-bursting screams (enough to shatter your family’s fine china), and even a few thunderous sound effects from this unfortunately short-lived track. The band strive to make every song their absolute best, and this album displays this ‘deliciously’ with the next track ‘Demagoguery’, which really delves into the band's vocal talents and showcases exactly what they are capable of. The guitar riffs throughout most of the song are absolutely insane, but none of them compare to the riffs in the bridge of the track, which are guaranteed to send even the most relaxed of the band's fans into a headbanging frenzy. Would Cradle Of Filth really be their extremely talented selves without their iconic build-ups? These iconic build ups have been there since the beginning, and their penchant for this is showcased phenomenally during the next track ‘The Trinity Of Shadows’. It starts off slow, and its build-up fits together seamlessly with the backing vocals. This being the most prominent part of the track, and a part that fans are bound to fall in love with, combined with this being the longest track of the album, make for a brilliant song. Next up to take the limelight is ‘Non Omnis Morar’, and would a black metal band really be a death metal band without at least one song in their arsenal with a latin name? This track showcases just how seamlessly both Dani Filth and Zoe Marie Federoff’s brilliant vocals merge together, working like a well-oiled machine. Federoff’s vocals dip in and out during the track, giving an energy of etherealness amongst the macabre lyricism. The next track ‘White Hellebore’ seems to skip a couple of steps and leaps directly into the hardcore riffs, which is not at all what you would expect after the relatively much slower previous track, but Cradle Of Filth takes this concept and makes it their own in such a talented and unique way. The track ends with gracefully spoken lyrics, which are a blessing to every fan's eardrums who have the opportunity to hear this masterpiece. The next two tracks ‘You Are My Nautilus’ and ‘Malignant Perfection’ are two completely sonically disparate tracks, yet both touch on the same topics of love and heartbreak, most notably ‘Malignant Perfection’ hitting the topic of falling for someone who's unhealthy. The mosh-worthy electric guitar and drums from the incredibly talented Marek Šmerda and Martin "Marthus" Škaroupka will have fans forming circle pits in absolutely no time. The next two tracks, much to fans’ despair, bring the album to a bittersweet end, but Cradle Of Filth are of course known for their music gluing itself to fans’ eardrums. The band give a whole new perspective to the phrase ‘going out with a bang’ with these next two tracks, ‘Ex Sanguine Draculae’ and ‘When Misery Was A Stranger’ - and with track names like those, you know that the band means business. Cradle bring their feral energy to spectacular new heights to close off the album here. The tracks have everything you could ever ask Cradle Of Filth for; insane riffs, blinding vocals and the energy of an 80’s metal ballad on ‘When Misery was a Stranger’. Cradle Of Filth have been creating art and showcasing their blinding talent for the last 34 years, and they keep showing us that they can still bring the same untamed gothic energy as they could the day that they released their first album. Score: 8/10 The Screaming Of The Valkyries will be released on March 21st 2025 via Napalm Records. Words: Becca Wheeler Photos: Cradle Of Filth

As punters walk around the Great Portland Street station looking for the venue, there is a big, bold 229, signalling that this is the right place. The floor is getting busy quickly, as people are coming down to celebrate International Women’s Day with We Hate You Please Die, The Menstrual Cramps and Eli Dayo. Originally from France, but currently residing in London, Eli Dayo is rising up with her strong vocals and unique writing skills that make her songs remarkable. Having some production issues and having a different bassist to step in at the last minute, her set was still energetic, with many fans visibly enjoying the first opener’s performance. The only downside was that no one knew the lyrics, and some people still chose to not pay attention to the set at all. We think it was a great first performance of the night, that was definitely memorable and fitting for the night’s theme. The next in line were the only British performers of the evening, and definitely the fan-favourites, The Menstrual Cramps. Releasing their latest EP ‘ACAB’ last year, the Bristol based punks showed us that they are anti-patriarchal and screaming for equality more than ever before. Blessing the crowd with hits like ‘Tinder Girl’, ‘Abortion’ and ‘Neo-Nazi’, we were witnesses of a fierce set from the first second to the very last. The lead vocalist, Emilia Elfrida, highlighted the importance of activism and punk in current times, going into topics such as feminism, queerness and politics. Raising awareness about the ‘Band’s Boycott Barclay’s’ movement, of which the band members are proud co-founders, the band showed their commitment to supporting Palestine. The set made the venue move and sing along and was definitely an important feature of the event. Last, but not least, were the headliners emerging from France, We Hate You Please Die. Currently promoting their new album, ‘Chamber Songs’, that came out last year, across Europe and UK, the three-piece, consisting of the members Chloe Barabe on bass and lead vocals, Joseph Levasseur on guitar and Mathilde Rivet on drums, is confirming their presence as a band, who is not scared to come out of conformity. The band describes themselves as punk rock and riot girls, going back to the familiar sounds of punk, while giving the genre their own twist. And it definitely works, as the full floor of the 229 venue confirmed. Without many words, the band went right into action, playing for the excited fans. The instruments and vocals in their songs are well balanced and do not feel overwhelming, giving each member a chance to showcase their talents. A nice touch was switching the vocals in between Chloe and Joseph, making the experience even more satisfying. Although the guitar and bass lines were well executed, there were moments where they felt repetitive and long, giving us nothing to look forward to. Nonetheless, the band carried the evening spectacularly, making the fans long for more, as we could see at the end of their set, when the band left the stage, and the crowd began chanting to get an encore, which was unfortunately not delivered. Overall, the evening was a daring experience full of support and encouragement. All three performers gave their absolute best, showcasing their work. Organising an event to support women and femme-persons, with the lineup consisting of queer and femme artists, is a brilliant way to celebrate this important day, especially with a lot of men and masculine people joining the crowd. Words: Katerina Stepanikova Photos: Atoosa Salamat

(Disclaimer: This review shall be composed in the vein of the late Cormac McCarthy) You could feel it under your feet. This low and malignant tremor stirring in the bones of the world. A sound without cognate and so without reckoning but incorporeal as spirits benighted out of the dark. The earth itself contracts to the shattering feedback. The concussions of raw electric force wild where violent riffs herald to some nameless calamity. The vocals spread like sheet lightning accompanying the distortion. Where comes the riff? Who farriers the hoof of the beast? The breakdown arrives with clamour and flagrance as a great monster risen out of the earth with a form so great and so terrible as to burlesque the bestial mosher that hides in the Tartarus of every being. They play on. They are playing, playing. They say they will never die. Welcome to the Spiritworld. Ok, so maybe the rest of this review might not be conducted in the manner of McCarthy, but like the lyricism of the group, his echo will resonate throughout. Emerging from the sands of the Mojave, Spiritworld is the long-brewing peyote vision of Stu Folsom (or Justin Brundy, for those with no taste for stage names), a man who has spent decades fermenting his obsessions with the three H’s; hardcore, honky-tonk, and hellfire - until they bore something akin to an unholy sourdough starter. It began with Folsom, a metalcore outfit that flirted with western aesthetics before Spiritworld took the whole damn affair up several notches - first as a cow-punk curiosity, then as something far more sinister. With Pagan Rhythms in 2020 they emerged as a full-throttle, Old West-obsessed death machine, a gang of riff-slinging reprobates barrelling through a scorched-earth mythology where Satan himself rides resplendent over humanity. But by the time Deathwestern landed, the band had realised the rattlesnake within, shedding their skin to reveal the bastard offspring of Sergio Leone and Slayer, all rattling bones and Old Testament fire ‘n’ brimstone. The writer’s first experience of these desperados was at London’s legendary Black Heart pub ahead of Deathwestern’s release in the dog days of 2022. No one in the room knew what kind of hell was about to be unleashed, four brightly-dressed cowboys emerged from the backroom and proceeded to hew the room asunder in an act not soon to be forgotten. It was different, the type of different that makes you follow a band and see what they can pull from their bag of tricks next and follow them like Barnum & Bailey’s troupe. Now we find ourselves in 2025, and the group is more formidable than ever. The six-shooter smokes, a body lies bleeding in the dust. It’s high noon. The meridian of the day. The intro to Helldorado echoes from the saloon doors. ‘Abilene Grime’ kicks things off like a bar fight that starts with a dirty look and ends with a man being tossed through a window. Beginning with a scream, a funky country guitar riff, and drums chugging along in a train line groove, then descending faster and faster - dragging the song into Spiritworld’s familiar domain. This one’s a pit-killer. The last thing some unfortunate soul will hear before being moshed into a fine pink mist. ‘No Vacancy In Heaven’ bursts out with Slayer-esque bravado and some brilliant call-and-response from Mr. Folsom, blaring out “IF THERE’S A HEAVEN THEN I DON’T WANNA KNOW” with all the panache of a preacher who has lost his faith in the big man upstairs and finds it again with the big iron on his hip. Featuring echoes of God Hates Us All and South Of Heaven, the die has truly been cast. ‘Western Stars & The Apocalypse’ is a slower jam, but comes and goes like a summer storm listing over a desert valley. ‘Bird Song of Death’ is – dare we say – a jauntier tune than Spiritworld has ever released. This one would fit right into a hoedown at the barrelhouse, with a lively arrangement featuring acoustic strumming and clapping throughout. It harkens back to the cow-punk days, but also endeavours to become something more. But when ‘Prayer Lips’ slithers in - whispered vocals, a creeping melody, and, yes, a goddamn saxophone solo (realised by one RJ Demarco). What the hell is happening? Manifest destiny, it seems. Spiritworld isn’t content to stay in the crossover-thrash dust bowl, they’re peering into a stranger horizon. Just as you collapse, spent, ‘Waiting on the Reaper’ crashes in like a thunderclap and drags you back into the crossfire. ‘Oblivion’ pairs Zach Blair of Rise Against with Blackbraid’s Sgah’gahsowáh, an alliance of punk and Native American black metal screaming forth visions of ruin as two wayward ghosts of Old America howling across the indifferent plains. After the spectral drift of ‘Cleansing’, ‘Stigmata Scars’ comes tumbling out of the gate, a merciless brawler crowned by a sacrilegious rallying cry: “STIGMATA SCARS ON MY HANDS!” It is gilded with a killer solo from Kreator’s Frederic Leclercq, with all the intensity you have come to expect. The experience ends with ‘Annihilism,’ a more traditional country tune with some extremely dark subject matter. It’s a hell of a thing to witness a band wade into unbroken territory, pushing their craft beyond blood and thunder. After the carnage, the bones have been rattled and the dust has settled, you can lean back, boots grazed and spirit-weary, and let the peculiar whimsy of it all wash over you like a great wave. What Spiritworld is trying to do here is simple. Rather than a full-blown evolution of their sound, it appears that they are just stretching their muscles a bit. There’s still plenty of carnage for those who fiended for the death-metal dime-novel of Deathwestern, but the creeping country influence and the slower, twangier deviations will send the traditionalists running to the hills, howling that their hallowed crossover-thrash outfit has been contaminated by Kenny Rogers-isms. Let them run. If every band capitulated to those with metal tunnel-vision, the genre would be a drier than a canteen in the Mojave, doomed to churn out Storm of the Light’s Bane rewrites until the end of time. Helldorado is not just an uncharted endeavour for the band either, for it seems to continue on from the story that Folsom’s Godlessness anthology told in Deathwestern. The subject matter remains the same, with the brutality of the Old West and the musings of hell on earth continuing as before. Yet the delivery is an altered beast, and compared to the rough ‘n’ ruggedness of their last offering, Helldorado is a rustic phantasmagoria, a fever dream that refuses to be bound by the narrow constraints of its theme. This is the inevitable crossroad all concept-driven bands must face - the great Darwinian aphorism: adapt or perish. Yet SpiritWorld seem unphased, schooled in blows and ready to take on the whole stinkin’ world, they approach with confidence, but do not appear to commit their whole head into the apple-bob just yet. It seems we have to stay tuned to see what mad stylings this great favourite can put out next. If you enjoy your slamming in the experimental vein of Employed to Serve and Rivers of Nihil, then Helldorado might just be up your alley, partner. Folsom himself puts it best; “If that makes me an outcast or even more fringe than your average underground music act then that's okay. The stench of being genuine is beautiful.” Score: 7/10 Helldorado will be released on March 21st 2025 via Century Media Records. Words: Kiarash Golshani Phots: Spiritworld

Awe. It is the reason you got into metal in the first place, is it not? You marvelled at the crushing guitars, you wept at the sight of electricity transmuting into sound, and you gaped at the sheer speed of a double kick pattern pulverising a kit like a child immersing itself into a ball-pit for the first time. In all of its bombastic splendour, you felt the touch of real glory upon your brow. Awe. Where do metalheads get their awe? It depends. For some, it manifests in the form of soaring vocal melodies juxtaposed with brutal guitarwork. For others, it may be a simple riff that encapsulates a moment within their own life – the emotions one experiences perfectly distilled into sonic form. But for another, more unique, breed of listener, it is technicality that inspires the most awe. They get their rocks off to a free-jazz saxophone solo being played offhand whilst the drummer is a step out of time and the guitars are exclusively playing dorian mode. Nuts about their notes-per-second statistics and time signatures so incomprehensible they might as well be an elaborate tax fraud scheme. We have been called many things; “enlightened,” “intelligent,” “devilishly handsome,”– but to others we are known by another name: “Snobs.” Without snobs, the legitimacy of music as an art medium suffers; how would Caravaggio paint if he just had three colours on his palette? They are there to point out that all songs in 4/4 are fundamentally the same even when nobody asked. When they come at you about your basic music library, they are not trying to harm you – no, they are trying to help you. And frankly, thank god for them, because without their glaring, condescending judgments, music as an art form would collapse into the hands of the unwashed masses. What would you do without them? And yet, this arcane breed of snob is forever at war with itself. Like a house that is divided, they cannot stand what they deem as defects upon their pristine genre. Their downfall (aside from being annoying)? Subjectivity. Complexity is their mistress, yet when faced with it, they can’t even agree on what it should look like. Which brings us to Imperial Triumphant, who have provided succour in the form of Goldstar. In the prickly landscape of avant-garde metal music, where people will honest to God accuse you of having "undeveloped ears" without a hint of irony, Imperial Triumphant can be divisive to say the least. A band that nobody can quite agree on, because what the hell even are they? They fashion themselves in Slipknot-esque stylings, careening out of the dark in bright, golden masks that look like they snuck out of one of Gatsby’s parties. Art-deco is the name, dada blackened death-jazz is the game - the soundtrack to a thousand damned flappers Charleston-ing their way into the pits of Hades. They are New Yorkers Zachary Ezrin, Steve Blanco, and Kenny Grohowski – a band of extremely talented musicians pushing their instruments to the limit. Their previous record, Spirit of Ecstasy, was a handbook in sonic excess. Featuring Kenny G (yes, that Kenny G) in all of his smooth-jazz glory. It will be hard to top such a mammoth collaboration, but Goldstar may prove itself yet. Themed after Fritz Lang’s 1927 German expressionist masterpiece Metropolis and featuring a bare-breasted Maschinenmensch on the cover, this record is yet another addition to rock’s long, weird record of venerating German expressionist cinema. But enough about the aesthetic - let’s talk about the music, if you still use earthly terms like ‘music’ to define whatever this is. It all starts with ‘Eye of Mars,’ the great filter. Before you can even clock what’s happening, a thunder of riffs, blast beats, death growls (and trumpets) surround you. If you cannot handle what Imperial Triumphant is putting down here, now is your cue to leave. Abandon all hope ye who enter here. ‘Gomorrah Nouveaux’ then begins with a Moroccan Gnawa-jazz beat (this is Imperial Triumphant we’re talking about here), before stop-starting like a subway train driven by a drunk conductor. There are some wonderfully evil vocals on display here from Zachary Ezrin who growls like a New York cab driver slamming on the brakes as a pedestrian screams; “Hey! I’m walkin’ here!” ‘Lexington Delirium’ takes it down several notches and the Floyd Rose starts to shine. It is a song about skyscrapers a la Bowie’s ‘Thru’ These Architects Eyes', an ode to the skyline with all the archaic devotion of a Sumerian scribe looking proudly upon his local Ziggurat. The dissonance of the sound is an encapsulation of the hustle and bustle of the Big Apple. Tomas Haake of Meshuggah is on guest duties here, rumbling out a requiem to a tower block in the style of Catch 33. ‘Hotel Sphinx’ continues the sonic assault, with what sounds like cartoon slipping-on-a-banana-peel noises amid the maelstrom. Pace-wise, the tempo-rubato of this song seems once again to be controlled by the drunken train driver, yet the breakdown in this one still slams. Hard. The next song, ‘NEWYORKCITY,’ is a 40-second grind-core panic attack featuring Yoshiko Ohara of Bloody Panda screaming Yoko Ono-isms over a flurry of blast beats and palm muted notes. Anyone who has ever commuted into work in a big city will deeply resonate with this one. After a short interlude advertising ‘Goldstar’ like an old cigarette brand (complete with a faux-Ink Spots introduction), ‘Rot Morderne’ strikes – and admittedly the dadaist madness is waning a little. It is stop-and-start metal mayhem just like ‘Hotel Sphinx’ was. But like a phoenix, ‘Pleasuredome’ invigorates the experience. This is one for the drummers, featuring Dave Lombardo of Slayer fame performing a Brazilian Maracatu-inspired solo and Tomas Haake back with some more spoken-word. With as much chaos as Richard Christy’s elegantly messy banging on The Sound Of Perseverance, where it sounds like he’s throwing pots and pans across a room but it still ends up being in perfect 6/8 time. Kenny Grohowski is truly the ‘drummer’s drummer', having also performed with the criminally underrated Secret Chiefs 3, they give a phenomenal performance throughout the album. It is pure percussive pandemonium from start to finish, like a final drum exam at Juilliard. Finally, the closing track, ‘Industry Of Misery'. Seven-and-a-half minutes of pure obliteration. The bass work of Steve Blanco penetrates through the cloudy dissonance like a shot from a gun, careening at its own pace whilst the other instruments continue their carnage. It plays out like a death march until, suddenly, it starts dying in real-time, degrading into what sounds like a low-battery novelty birthday card slowly gasping its last breath. And just like that - it’s over. This was exhausting. Even with its moments of eerie calm, the sheer density of it all wearies the bones, and this is somehow still their most accessible album yet. While it is about as intense as a massage from a thousand angry wasps, by the time it’s over, you feel like you’ve attended quite the classy affair. The ghosts of Thelonius Monk and Ornette Coleman haunt this thing, their large shadows looming over every note. But where jazz was always about the swing, Goldstar is about the collapse, an opulent soundscape of skyscrapers crumbling in upon themselves and a Manhattan traffic jam at rush hour where every car horn is in a separate key. Looking down the Chrysler Building like the band do in their ‘Lexington Delirium’ video, you’d see frantic figures swarming across grids, each rushing to an enigmatic destination. The sheer, overwhelming futility and absurdity of it all. Awe. That is what Imperial Triumphant have set out to capture here, and they do a bloody good job of it too. However, they still remain metal marmite; love them or can’t stand em’ for many. They don’t care if you ‘get’ them. They don’t care if you like them. But if you’ve already got artists like John Zorn, Oranssi Pazuzu, or even John Coltrane in your roster, you’re probably ready to join the imperium. Goldstar is a gilded, dilapidated monument to excess, music to an extravagant capitalist ouroboros devouring itself. “Look upon my works, ye mighty, and despair!” And if you don’t like it? Well, maybe your ears just aren’t developed enough. Score: 7/10 Goldstar will be released on March 21st 2025 via Century Media records. Words: Kiarash Golshani Photos: Alex Krauss & Shannon Void

Bloodywood’s sophomore album Nu Delhi sees the New Delhi quintet finding their stride after a stratospheric level rise to international fame since the pandemic. Across eight tracks, Bloodywood gives the feeling of hopping between roofs of buildings in the dead of night with a sense of urgency that only comes from a band ready to pack up and take over the world. The album opens with ‘Halla Bol’ (Raise Your Voice), a track that is equal parts thrash and metalcore with gorgeous electric ambience, while introducing the ‘sit down and listen to us’ theme that is present throughout this project. The chopped chanting to introduce the listener creates a pit in the stomach akin to that of a soldier whose body has begun to anticipate the ambush, while the track itself is a dopamine producing machine that gets listeners ready to move. This blends into the self aggrandising 'Hutt' (Annoyed/Angry) - when Raoul Kerr tells us that critics were “looking down” on them but they’re “on the way up now” we 100% agree; the confidence that permeates from this track is by no means misplaced. The play on “we don’t give a- hutt…” did not go unappreciated either. Third track ‘Dhadak’ is a favourite track contender - their signature sound permeating through the Dhol beat throughout, spliced with the broken vocals they are experimenting with on this project and matching with themes of persistence and making their music for the love of music. This is really Sarthak Pahwa’s time to shine as he elevates this track beyond its energetic metalcore grooves, and is a major player in its replayability. Hitting its stride as an album from here there is second single and only feature ‘Bekhauf’ (Fearless), with said feature being metal heavyweights BABYMETAL; you know you’ve made it when! While the infusion of Indian folk sounds and instruments is what makes the Bloodywood sound, the inclusion of a more cookie-cutter metalcore song is yet more proof that they have the quality that the space they have carved themselves requires; from exemplary screams and belches that accompany the BABYMETAL signature songbird vocals, to the double bass workout Vishesh Singh completes on the drum kit behind. This single is the perfect demonstration of the grip Bloodywood have on their place in the scene, and fits wonderfully within its tracklist (not to mention, the beautifully animated music video that accompanied its release is more than worth anyone's time!). Act 2 of this album is the better half if there is one, with the beginning of ‘Kismat’ (Destiny) serving as a mental-itch scratcher in its whisper rap then breakdown conjuring feelings of screaming atop the highest point of your hometown. As the name suggests, there’s themes of the realisation of dreams present within this song, with a sense of parasocial pride emerging as it’s proclaimed “I became all the heroes I believe in”. The breakdown in this track may also be the best on the project. The traversal energy is still strong in this track and this act, with 'Daggebaaz' offering the angst present more on debut Rakshak, but after this there is the strongest single ‘Tadka’ (Tempering). Playing on a foodie theme, this song promotes togetherness and their supremacy as a band in equal parts. Starting with a trumpet and military style beat, Bloodywood compare their rise to fame and what they will do with it to traditional Indian hospitality, shouting out mum and grandma while they compare cooking in the kitchen to the cooking in the studio they have done on this project while they boast about the addictive quality of their sound. The vibe is optimistic metalcore, with the whole track working to build towards a finale from the gods - the fire inside the belly is definitely fanned, as are windows broken by the time the final burp rings out. The album closer is lead single and title track ‘Nu Delhi’, which needs no explanation: its tongue-in-cheek play on nu-metal and hometown New Delhi in its title exemplifies perfectly the blend of sounds that Bloodywood produces to create their signature sound, which captivates from start to finish. Much of this album has been described as [adjective] metalcore, because it is simply what good metalcore should sound like - if you’ve been looking for the album to convince your friends of the quality of the subgenre, then this is it. As Kerr mentions in ‘Nu-Delhi’, diversity is a gift, and Bloodywood as a project, let alone this album, is a jewel in that crown: a no skips, full-energy offering that takes all of the wheat from their debut and cuts the chaff with skill. The confidence and resolve that is woven through each track is deserved for a band who have enjoyed an explosive first five years, so all that’s left to ask of them is to pick up their favourite bands from the Indian metal and hardcore scene and take them to worldwide audiences - they’ll be doing the heavy scene a generational favour. Score: 7/10 Nu Delhi will be released on March 21st via Fearless Records. Words: Julia Brunton Photos: Bloodywood

From free pints to pit aeroplanes, the first quarter final of Manchester’s Metal to the Masses competition brought the energy as the UK’s metal community begin to get excited for Bloodstock 2025. At 5pm in Manchester, a small draft was blowing through Rebellion as the audience for the first quarter final trickled in. The roster was packed: 4 competing bands with last year’s runners up 40,000 leagues guest headlining after the competition’s sets. The energy was friendly as small groups found their spots in the pit, pints and tins in hand as the clock ticked towards the 6pm start time. After a quick sound check it was time for competitor one - thrash metal quartet Leader. A first impression of Leader may include a lack of movement or presence, but after a couple tracks they hit their stride and the technical abilities of each member become apparent. The pit in turn opened immediately, with its participants including a man donning a gas mask and full camouflage military-style gear running around in the circle pit started by frontman Joey Kirby. The energy only got higher through the 30 minute sets and How You Doing rang out from the stage, with the chant of ‘Leader! Leader!’ after every song marking them as a favorite and possible winner for this quarter final. Rounding out their set with track Things are Going to Change the buzz was palpable and the draft was replaced with the sweat that denotes quality in the hardcore space; a good set, and a well earned cup of tea for Kirby as he slipped back onto the floor to watch the competitors. Tokeo Second up was rap-rock outfit Tokeo, with their frontman dressed in a white shirt/white plaid outfit that reminded us of chef whites - after realising he was in fact one of the competitors this observation felt quite rude. After a high energy opener they followed with the title track from their next EP Standards of Living, with said frontman hopping between speaking regularly and speaking in poetry, the dissatisfaction with the state of the modern working class permeating from him in both his lyrics and crowdwork between songs. Speaking of, their guitarist took some of that load albeit jankly from the Tokeo frontman as they coaxed the crowd closer and tried to start the pit that grew more naturally in Leader before them, to moderate success. Tokeo also gave off the vibes that they were friends who made a band rather than the other way around - their guitarist in particular was having a whale of a time with an ear to ear grin that did not leave his face the entire set, and the band as a whole seemed more at ease with the jokes and working the room in general. As they left the stage these were a personal favourite for a winner. Number 3 of the night were Silence Reigns, a heavy metalcore outfit who were the first to have pre recorded entry music - favouritism? Only joking. The pit was stringent for the first couple songs, with Gas Mask Man holding down the fort as the rest of the room paused for breath. Silence Reigns bring that boss fight intensity, with lead Matthew Parry commanding the room from the platform they brought while guitarist Louis Chadwick supplemented with beautiful clean vocals in tracks such as Chains. The request for a circle pit was once again filed and approved with Gas Mask Man opting for the naruto run as they looped around the middle of the floor. Parry was possibly the most confident in front of the crowd, especially solo as he worked walls of death to great success, but was perhaps too comfortable as they accidentally ran themselves over before their final song. Asleep At The Helm The final competing band of the night was Asleep at the Helm, another metalcore quartet who may have been fighting an uphill battle as competitor 4. The crowd, many smoking, went mild with the pit closing for a while; they went hard nevertheless, with bassist Nat Douglas giving the energy and guitarist Lewis Oldfield rocking a funky mask. The presence of Asleep at the Helm was arguably the worst, with the vocalist routinely keeping his back to the crowd during the instrumentals and calls for circle pits and walls of death now feeling repetitive at artist 4 of the evening. This said, Jimmy Dahmer’s vocals were strongest, able to swap between screams and clean vocals and able to pull off a breakbeat style scream throughout the set. The melodies were gorgeous (even if the one in the penultimate song was in a backing track), and they still held their own overall even if they didn’t seem in the running now that all the bands had played. Now feels right to take the time to mention how well run the event was on the part of Metal to the Masses and Rebellion. An organised wristband system and cohesive hosting to let the smokers know when the sets were starting was appreciated, as were the tokens for free drinks handed out a couple times throughout the night. The staff at rebellion were great and attentive, and the voting went smoothly with the time to count found from the final set of the night. 40K This set was from 40,000 leagues (or 40k, as the chant went) - it’s clear how they did so well last year. Frontman Nathan Cross’ stage persona came out as soon as his feet hit that floor: from joking about their loss the year before, to kneeling with the crowd before they started moshing to running around the venue looking in random doors - he’s a crazy girl! The crowd even worked him back, with calls for a kiss and more coming between pretty much every song before he sheepishly said to ask his girlfriend. 40,000 Leagues are textbook metalcore - shredding guitars and hardcore vocals ringing out and gorgeous half-time breakdowns restoring the energy of the crowd as the pit reignited. The last few songs of their set included covers, with a cover of Chaka Khan and Rufus’ Ain’t Nobody being a highlight before the set closed out. Or it didn’t, as the room chanted feverishly for one more song and with the okay from the venue and a popular vote Rebellion was treated to a metalcore version of Livin La Vida Loca by Ricky Martin. In short, it was sick, with the room doing the ‘upside in-side out’ part of the chorus. The last hurrah of Gas Mask Man came at the end of this track as he dove from the stage to be caught and dirty-dancing-style carried in a circle while he flapped his arms like a bird - A jovial end to the competition before the final results were revealed. So what were they? Popular vote went to…Leader! Well deserved, with their technical metal prowess and the ease of which the crowd seemed to mosh. The judge’s vote was…Silence Reigns! Again well deserved with their easy stage presence and ability to captivate the room. Graciously 3rd and 4th were not handed out, though in this opinion Tokeo must have had to have been a close number 3. A satisfying end to a good night overall as the crowd trickled out into a sharp Sunday night - we’ll see you two in the semi finals. Words: Julia Brunton Photos: Dave Ellits