Coffin Storm is a collaborative project between Apollyon (Aura Noir), Bestial Tormentor (Infernö), and Fenriz (Darkthrone) that embodies this passion and sparks this joy. Their debut album Arcana Rising, which came out last week, relishes in their adolescent love for metal. Bestial Tormentor and Apollyon actually played in the doom metal band Lamented Souls together when they were teens during the 1990s, but the outfit never released more than a few demos and a compilation. 

Their friendship is rooted in metal and it permeates Arcana Rising, which is unpretentious and laser-focused on making heavy metal while taking inspiration only from heavy metal and for the purpose of creating heavy metal. This mindset is evident in all aspects, from the songwriting (which evolved out of jam sessions between Apollyon and Bestial Tormentor during COVID) to the musicianship. The latter supposedly takes hints from doom metal and thrash metal, but in all honesty, Arcana Rising is strictly heavy metal, with the whimsy, performativism, and balls that metal requires. 

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This is all to say that it sounds nothing like recent Darkthrone or Aura Noir. Bestial Tormentor’s riffs steer the tracks, charioting “Over Frozen Moors” and “Eighty-Five and Seven Miles,” the latter of which could’ve been a thrash track if Coffin Storm weren’t so plodding. This pace, though, is integral to the record. It’s as if Apollyon and Bestial Tormentor have pledged their allegiance to their riffs and will follow them to their grave. They derive the most usefulness from the least amount of resources. Instead of urgency, there’s confidence; they let riffs or song sections continue onwards and ride their strength for as long as it can sustain. 

The riffs are muscular and fun for no other reason than that’s how Arcana Rising was conceived: as a way for Apollyon and Bestial Tormentor to connect during the pandemic. It’s music for music’s sake and the end product reflects its origins. Apollyon and Bestial Tormentor are so in tune with one another from just jamming together that Arcana Rising barely breaks a sweat. 

Fenriz is the real laborer here, and his quasi-improvised performance can be a labor of love for the listener at times. It’s clear which tracks he heard beforehand and which he heard for the first time while he was recording his vocals. His approach was inspired by Johan Längqvist’s performance on Candlemass’ Epicus Doomicus Metalicus, and as such, his delivery is loose, unrefined, and most crucially, charming. His opening lines on “Over Frozen Moors” will divide listeners because you can hear him finding his groove. For some, it’ll sound like he’s just quirky Fenriz, but once the chorus comes around on the title track, his character becomes undeniable. He counterbalances the synergy between Apollyon and Bestial Tormentor with an unpredictable attempt at operatic vocals. He’s the spark that cements Arcana Rising as undistilled heavy metal that only wants to be heavy metal, with all its bravado and endearing or off-putting over-the-topness.

Apollyon spoke to us about the album’s backstory, recording vocals, and the band’s ties to their hometown of Kolbotn, among other topics.

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Arcana Rising is surprisingly fun for a metal album like this. Were you pursuing a fun feeling with it?

A few people have said that it sounds fun. Really though, we didn’t have any great plans or anything when we started rehearsing together. The main focus was playing guitar together once a week and making whatever came out. We had been making doom metal together for a while, we were in Lamented Souls, our first band together. So I expected it to turn out more doomy than it did. The title track is actually an old song from our band that we never released. I think we played it with the other guys but it didn’t sound the way we wanted it to and we wanted to try Fenriz’s vocals on it. And it worked out really well. 

How did it feel to revisit it years after writing it for Lamented Souls?

The midsection is not quite like it was 20 years ago or whenever we wrote it. We never got it to where we wanted, like we never got the groove on the vocal line. Nothing felt right when we played it last time. So it felt much better now. We played it just for fun before our recording session because, really, we didn’t want to use any Lamented Souls material, but the test recording sounded okay so we decided to lay more guitars on it and we got Fneriz to sing on it. It felt great but I think it’s the only pure doom metal song on the album. 

The other songs come from an 80s place where it’s little bits of heavy, doom, and thrash, but without going too far in any one direction, it seems. 

That’s about right. I think it’s because the other guy made most of the riffs while I sat behind the drums, which I often do because I can play them, slightly. He was very productive, so he spewed out riffs. Because I was stuck behind the drums, I told him that I was going to make one long-ass song, which ended up being “Open the Gallows” and over 10 minutes long. That’s entirely mine. 

That’s my favorite song, actually. What made you want to make that sort of song once you got behind the drums?

I’ve been in that same situation with my other band Aura Noir where I’m placed behind the drums, and even if I have loads of riffs, the other guys are so productive that I don’t feel that I’ve contributed a whole lot. My initial plan was to have a Metallica-like instrumental, like “Orion” or another from one of their first albums. But then, I wanted to have vocals after all because I realized it would have meant loads and loads of guitar parts and stuff. I knew Aureal, he’s a generation younger, also from Kolbotn. I sent him the song and he put a beautiful solo on it. Just great. And also, Fenriz’s singing did the trick. I did sing it myself on the double bass drum part, but I think I took my vocals away just before I sent it to mastering. I was ashamed because everything else was so good that I didn’t want to spoil the whole thing (laughs).

You’re being too harsh on yourself. But I wanted to chat about how your original vocals would’ve differed from Fenriz’s since you originally assumed you would’ve performed vocals until you were able to get him. 

It would’ve been different with me singing. I’m not used to singing clear vocals like he does. I think I do some backing vocals on there and I can hide behind his vocals and that’s okay, but I don’t feel very confident singing that cleanly myself. So, I have no idea. I don’t think I’ve ever tried it, so who knows? But, his vocal lines are also amazing because some of the riffs change tones in a weird way, so you can’t really keep a note because ten seconds after, it’ll turn sour or off-key. So, I think Fenriz did a great job with all of it. 

He did the first session quickly because he had this idea that the vocalist behind Candlemass on Epicus Doomicus Metalicus, I don’t think he heard the songs before he recorded them, so Fenriz didn’t want to hear the songs. Nobody had made lyrics, so he was in for a surprise. He told all the neighbors that it would be noisy for five hours that day. In that time, he ran back and forth to the toilet and played sections of the song, he made vocal lines and wrote lyrics for three songs, including “Over Frozen Moors.” 

For the last four songs, I was allowed to send him the tracks a week or two before. 

So it’s on the first three songs that feature his “improvised’ performance?

“Over Frozen Moors,” “Eighty-Five and Seven Miles,” and “Clockwork Cult.” Those three are from the first session. 

You can tell they’re the loosest out of them all. What does “Eighty-Five and Seven Miles” mean?

Ehhhh, I never asked about the lyrics. I kinda know what he’s singing because I heard the song a billion times while mixing it, but I have no idea for sure. Maybe they’re just words that fit the music, who knows? As long as it’s the right words, I don’t really care, and he doesn’t like explaining what the songs are about, as far as I know. 

Earlier, you said you guys didn’t want to go back to old Lamented Soul songs. Was it because it’d been so long since you performed them?

Mainly, it was to not upset the other two Lamented Souls members. This was during COVID or whatever, plus, the older you get, the harder it is to gather four grown men once a week. We just wanted to play once a week, so we said let’s not make it Lamened Souls because otherwise it’d end up as nothing at all. We wanted to make it something new. But we still got the blessing from Einard, the drummer from Lamented Souls, to do the one Lamented Souls song. Either way, Bestial Tormentor and I have always made every single riff for that band, so it’s our stuff. 

You said before, when speaking of Aura Noir, that “personally, I like Aura Noir to sound pretty dry and organic. Like the music we grew up listening to.” Was that same idea present in Arcana Rising?

Did I say dry? It doesn’t have to be dry, but definitely organic. I like music that stands out even if it’s not perfectly played. At least it doesn’t sound like everything else. I like it to have some character. At least with this album, I thought we were going to record it in some professional studio. I’d only put four microphones on the drum kits in the rehearsal space. But the other guys liked that sound, so if I had to do it all over, it was hard to get the drums to sound right because it was noisy in the small room. But, I mean, we have lots of overdubs on the guitars and leads. I even managed to get Fenriz to sing multiple takes from the same songs, which I don’t think he’s ever done before. I was able to pick and choose and layer the vocals on top of each other. 

It sounds, to me, like a scrappy first album. It sounds like what I thought heavy metal was when I was a kid. Even though you have all the overdubs, it still sounds like a smaller band coming from the underground. 

I wanted it to sound more raw than anything else. I wouldn’t mind if it sounded like Master of Puppets, but I don’t know how to do that. 

You handled production as well, right?

Yeah, in a way, but I haven’t done much of that in this computer world. I don’t do it often, so every time I log on I have to waste half an evening waiting for everything to update and then the creative juices are gone. There is a lot I don’t know, so I went for the most organic stuff I could find and the least plugins I could find.

I enjoy producing, but the computer system is too much. It’s like choosing a Netflix movie. Some days you need a delay, so you spend all night scrolling through delays, but you end up not using any of them, just like how you can kill a whole evening scrolling through Netflix without watching anything. I do enjoy the studio part. 

Would you like to get more involved with the studio part as your career progresses?

I’d like to, but at the moment, I don’t really have time. It was my plan initially. I went to a school to learn the basics. I know where I want to go with the sound but I don’t know the basics. However, that was 10 years ago, and I haven’t done much with it since then. 

If you could, would you want a cleaner, more polished sound?

No, I think the sound is fine. I want to have a raw sound, but the next album could sound different. Definitely not the modern click-tracking copy-and-paste, though. It has to sound alive. Most of my favorite albums are raw, but then again, you have Ride the Lightning and Master of Puppets. Even the first Candlemass is well produced. 

Since Coffin Storm is your first new project since Aura Noir, does it feel like a new beginning?

Not yet, but it feels good to have an album that’s not that extreme but is still heavy. It’s also nice to have an album out because we never got to record anything serious with Lamented Souls. We just had one failed attempt at an album that was later released. I’m pretty happy with this and it’s cool to be with the guys from my hometown. But, a new beginning? It’s a new beginning with Bestial Tormentor, because I’ve always wanted to play with him, and it’s been a dream of mine to be in a band with Fenriz since I saw him at the local cinema in 89. 

You two go way back then. 

Yeah, but he’s two or three years older than me, and that’s a lot when you’re 13. Plus, we went to different high schools. There are three in high school but all three of us went to different high schools. I first met Bestial Tormentor when I went to college but Fenriz didn’t go to that college. 

That’s crazy that you have so many local connections that have shaped black metal as a whole, and it’s so causal to you because it was just a few years of age that separated you two. Small-town vibes. 

Yeah, there are only 10,000 people in the area. I’d seen all the guys before college, including Darkthrone, but they were rockstars at the time, at least to me. 

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Arcana Rising is available now through Peaceville Records. 

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The music on Wheel of Ghosts will be familiar to most, but competently executed in instrumentation and production and with some left-field surprises. “Hellir” translates from Old Norse as “Cave” (a fitting tribute to the Scandinavian blackened fordere) and be not afeared, there’s reverb for days. But it’s not a cave in the filthy, primordial sense: imagine instead a deeply liminal, completely empty parking garage, or maybe an auditorium. Riffs are allowed to chew a little without going overboard on duration, and drums are big huge with a nicely slapping snare. At times, it transitions to funeral doom right under your nose. The black metal vocals are executed professionally and in the style of the greats, with a couple solid death metal gurgles for extra credit, and clean vocals can be heard wafting in and out from time to time. And finally, as promised, there are synths, lots of synths but never distracting synths. They shimmer along beneath the guitars, lifting them like a cushion, and panning is used effectively to make them stand out when necessary. And holy shit, there is a friggin’ sex-sax break on “Moria” that doesn’t sound completely out of place! I can’t help but think of Cradle of Filth given the vaporwave treatment when I listen to this album, slowed and reverbed for maximum nocturnal a e s t h e t i c .

Speaking of aesthetic, if one examines Mr. Shaneyfelt’s tattoo art, as on his Instagram page dashtattoos, the aesthetic exegesis of Hellir becomes apparent. 80s and 90s horror art and motifs, gothic shibboleths from a bygone era, detailed visions of ancient gods, and blood red moons, all hint at the 80s-20s synthesis vision which Hellir presents. Songs on the album directly reference Lord of the Rings and the Legend of Zelda, and never does it wallow in the usual mire of black metal self-seriousness. I should note here that, in my opinion, the field has never been more primed for such singular and iconoclastic visions of what black metal can be if allowed to grow. For example, Agriculture’s hyper-Liturgy major-key bliss assaults or Lepra’s Scooby-Doo mansion on black acid vibes. Hell, just look at Disfiguring the Goddess’ “slambient” to see similar rumblings in death metal. Something like Hellir, which blends the introverted coldness of the first wave of black metal with the luxe stylings of post-internet synth- and vaporwave, is absolutely of a piece with the zeitgeist even if it does not sound anything like any of those other projects. “Cometh the hour, cometh the man,” as they say.

Wheel of Ghosts is now streaming on all platforms, with a physical release planned for later in the year. The project has recently performed live for the first time, so be advised if you live in the Upper Southeast.

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In 2012, Vemod released their debut album, Venter på stormene (“Waiting For The Storms”), and with it discarded the established norms of the scene like a sober older brother. Though still anchored in traditional black metal, Venter på stormene was more focused on uplifting movements and dreamlike atmospheres than bludgeoning the listener with occult imagery. It was a beautiful and emotive record, if still raw in the production department.

Then Vemod dropped off the face of the planet, and fans were left wondering whether this was yet another one-off from a notoriously fickle scene. Thankfully, good things come to those who wait (nearly 12 years, in this case), as the band make their return this month with The Deepening on Prophecy Productions.

Formed around compositions of guitarist Jan Even Åsli, who comes across as a gentleman and a scholar in interviews, The Deepening is an impressive evolution on Vemod’s debut. Right out of the gates, “Mot oss en ild” (“Against Us A Fire”) boasts a rich synth drone with mournful clean strums running over the top. It’s a far cry from the raw, early ’90s blast of the album’s predecessor.

The contemplative atmosphere doesn’t last long, however, shattered by familiar “black metal” territory with “Der guder dor” (“There Gods Die”). This is more along the lines of what made Venter på stormene such a hypnotic listen–extremely aggressive playing by all parties despite heart-wrenching and ecstatic melodies–but this time round it sounds so much fuller bodied and vital.

Åsli has said that he opts for whatever level of production fits the music. In this case, then, it seems that Vemod feels the time is now to drop the lo-fi Nidrosian trappings and focus on capturing the expansive wilds of their homeland (the cover art is by Norwegian landscape painter Ørnulf Opdahl). About halfway through “Der guder dor,” the assault gives way to a much slower and fluid section with lead guitars somewhat evocative of David Gilmour from Pink Floyd. Indeed, by the close of the 13-minute track, Vemod is having a full-on psychedelic wig-out, accompanied by choral vocals.

This relationship between fiercely tremolo-picked chords and effects-laden leads is a recurrent theme of The Deepening. “True North Beckons” again takes its time building tension with pummeling metal, but eventually this melts away into lilting, orchestral passages. In fact, following this album, Vemod would probably go down a storm on a post-rock billing.

Punctuating the halfway point of the album is “Fra drommenes bok I” (“From Book I of Dreams”), remarkable for its multilayered acapella harmonies, drenched in reverb, almost giving the impression of a monastic chant. Following this short breather, “Inn I lysande natt” (“Into The Brilliant Night”) completely shifts gears, putting the blast beats aside for a driving krautrock rhythm that would be the perfect accompaniment on a desert highway in the dead of night. Åsli’s clean singing also takes center stage here, as opposed to drummer Eskil Blix’s inhuman rasping found across the other tracks. Yet the 16-minute, self-titled epic that closes out The Deepening sees these two vocal approaches complement and intertwine each other.

Does all this make Vemod (dare we say it) post-black metal? The band describe themselves as “dark ethereal metal,” if that helps, but we doubt they give a toss about being pigeonholed this way or that. Those involved certainly go to the effort of drawing a line between Vemod and their other projects, but if you often find yourself in the realms where black metal and post-rock collide, this will be right down your alley.

–Richard Currie

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The Deepening releases today via Prophecy Productions.

Given the way that I am talking about Autopsy’s recent output it probably will not surprise anyone to hear that I think their newest album, Ashes, Organs, Blood and Crypts, also fucking rules. Sorry for the spoiler–maybe I should have couched that in a few paragraphs of flowery language first for the delicate amongst our reader base that like a little foreplay before getting into strong declarations of quality? That’s not Autopsy, though, and it never has been. Ashes, Organs, Blood and Crypts is not a delicate album. Right from the start with the opener “Rabid Funeral,” they make that clear. Autopsy is not in it for long build ups leading epic sections of ever-escalating melody, or long verses of flowery lyrics. It’s been decades since Autopsy started demoing out songs like “Mauled to Death” but their dedication to gross sickness is as strong as ever: we’re still getting ripping, fat riffs going back to back with sections of thrash beats, catchy choruses in singer/drummer Chris Reifert’s signature howls about pulling people apart, and deviations into groovy doom metal here. 

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Those sections of doom metal are really a signature of the Autopsy sound and something that I feel isn’t talked about enough. It’s no mistake that at Mass Destruction in Atlanta last month, various members of Autopsy could be seen rushing the Pagan Altar merch booth or going hard during the Legions of Doom set. These guys are genuine doom metal fans in a way that most metal bands called “death/doom” aren’t, and the dynamic between genuinely Sabbath-y sections and the more destructive thrash-rooted ones is something that not only adds a lot of catchiness and memorability to Ashes, Organs, Blood and Crypts but that makes it stand out amongst a sea of younger bands trying and failing to knock off Autopsy’s sound because that special ingredient is missing, and because Autopsy know that being death metal freaks isn’t enough: there’s more out there, and including it is what has always made Autopsy so great.

Ashes, Organs, Blood and Crypts is perhaps the slowest Autopsy record in years, which is why I’m making such a big deal about the doom metal that makes up such a big part of the record. Morbidity Triumphant certainly had plenty of doom to it, but most of it was less mid-paced than even the faster songs on Ashes, Organs, Blood and Crypts are, and the EP prior to it, Puncturing the Grotesque, almost felt like an entire release of Autopsy paying tribute to Motörhead because of the speed and rockingness that suffused it; Ashes, Organs, Blood and Crypts really only has “Throatsaw” as a callback to the sort of speed and punk influence present in the earliest years of the band, and even the shorter and faster songs on the album other than it tend to have long doom sections or stay pretty mid-paced. It makes for a nice offset from the other modern Autopsy albums: even where their classic dynamic shifts of slow to fast to slow are present (see: “Lobotomizing Gods” or especially “Death Is The Answer”) they’re mostly sandwiched between slow songs, and there are perhaps more slow songs back-to-back than there have ever been. 

As usual, the actual performances of each member are fantastic, and as with other recent albums the production is fantastic. Adam Munoz has been engineering for Autopsy since the beginning of the reunion and was doing all of the engineering for Abscess for years before that, and it’s clear that he has the Autopsy sound completely and totally nailed down. With such a strong album that, quibbles about relative tempo or quality aside, really does sound like “just” more killer Autopsy material it’s ultimately easy to laud Autopsy’s back catalog and talk about this being more of the same–but it’d be a disservice to assume it’s business as usual. 

Autopsy’s core has been the same all these years, with Reifert on drums and vocals and with Eric Cutler and Danny Coralles on guitars, but there’s been an addition that seems to be really invigorating the band–namely, Greg Wilkinson joining up on bass guitar. After eight years with very little new material, we suddenly have two albums in subsequent years, both of them some of their best material since the 1990s… and maybe even better than some of the classic material, heresy as it is to say. Whether or not that’s Wilkinson’s doing is a question for the band and not for me but whatever’s going on, I am absolutely here for it–and you should be, too. 

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Ashes, Organs, Blood and Crypts is out now via Peaceville Records.

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So what’s the big deal? Well, Master’s Murmur isn’t strictly a black metal record. Note that this is not an improbable event–just look at how Laster or Furia continually reinvent themselves.

But that isn’t to say that Yellow Eyes is shunning the style, which makes Master’s Murmur all the more exciting. Sure, the first blast beat might not turn up until a good 13 minutes of the album has elapsed, but it drops in such an organic way that fans and newcomers alike should feel in safe hands as the band takes you on a tour of what we’ll call “adjacent” music.

Take “Anywhere Out Of The World” from Dead Can Dance’s 1987 album Within The Realm Of A Dying Sun. No rock instrumentation to be heard, clean singing, and yet we have an atmosphere remarkably close to what would become familiar sonics for black metal over the next decade. As such, you can find a lot of extreme metal fans also moving in post-industrial, neoclassical, and darkwave circles. We could take Master’s Murmur as a love letter to these equally leftfield genres that often tread similar ground despite disparate motivations and methods.

Opener “Old Acclivity Dream” couldn’t be a better mission statement. An air raid siren of woodwinds blaring out of harmony, thrumming bass, then guitar noise verging on power electronics, before a haunting melodic theme surfaces out of the cacophony. The transition into the self-titled track could go entirely unnoticed, and here we begin to see Yellow Eyes employing textures from dungeon synth, neofolk, and even Tolkien-esque landscapes.

Yet Yellow Eyes’ identity remains. Will hasn’t suddenly turned into Dead Can Dance mastermind Brendan Perry, keeping hold of his venomous bark in spite of the music’s less obvious aggression. Nor has the band shirked what makes it distinct–the Skarstads’ guitars still writhe and intertwine into the uncanny, only this time round much of it is drenched in reverb and delay instead of distortion. Underneath, the murky power chords and bass move much slower, evoking the spirit of drone and doom.

Meanwhile, percussion is purposefully sparse, first reminding us of its presence on “Winter is Looking” with a thumping bass drum punctuating the track’s dirge-like qualities. Then, as the synth line reaches a climax, Rekevics’ telltale fills smash the relative tranquility and dive into a blast beat for the first “black metal” moment of Master’s Murmur, while a strummed acoustic guitar and piano guide the piece to its conclusion.

“Irrlicht” is borderline ritual music where the realms of dungeon synth and drone collide effortlessly, and a disembodied voice casts spells through the smoke of a sorcerer’s cauldron. “When Jackie’s Lamps Have Showed” snaps from dark ambient into a swirling madness of acoustic guitars and bells. Bells are a recurring theme in Yellow Eyes’ work, whether they come from field recordings or it’s the sound of the guitars themselves as on “Old Alpine Pang” from Immersion Trench Reverie. Old habits die hard, and “The Ritual is Gone” sees Rekevics’ savage blasts return for an ecstatic melding of ambient, noise, black metal, and, yes, more bells, underpinned by church organ-like synth.

The whole album oozes a sense of the occult and folk horror, whether it’s the incantations of the lyrics, the bleating of sheep (or goats) in the next field over on “Gold Door to Blindness,” or the cover art of a faceless hooded figure among crops. All this could hint at what’s to come from Yellow Eyes next because, as you may or may not be pleased to know, Master’s Murmur is one in a pair of companion albums. Per the band, it is “the first of two complementary releases conjoined in spirit, a surreal, sinister industrial folk prelude to an upcoming full-band LP” in 2024.

With Master’s Murmur already displaying Yellow Eyes at their most confident, experimental, and discerning, we cannot wait to hear what follows.

–Richard Currie

The thing is, for this author at least, Furia has not once sounded the same. They first hit the radar with Martwa polska jesień (Dead Polish autumn) in 2007, which was being passed around solely on the strength of its conventionality. Yes, it was powerful black metal from a country with a storied history in the genre, but there wasn’t much there that stood out as different at the time, aside from the occasional lengthy and clean instrumental passage.

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Yet going from 2016 to Huta Luna, due out October 10^th on Polish powerhouse Pagan Records, couldn’t be more of a step change, and a pretty exciting one at that. You see, where Księżyc milczy luty plodded about in abject misery, Furia’s first full-length in seven years is practically shorn of all negative emotions – and absolutely fucking furious to boot [read our interview with Furia here].

Not furious in the sense of anger specifically – we reckon that would count as a negative emotion – but in the playing. The majority of songs on Huta Luna clock in under four minutes and might average around 3:20. Coincidentally, the length of a good pop song. We count this as a wise decision because, frankly, we’d be astounded if any band could maintain this level of assault on the senses for the length of extreme metal’s more meandering passages.

While Furia’s fury manifests in the blistering blast beats and fret-defying guitars, the music itself speaks a different language, one of triumph and, dare we say, even joy. Speaking for myself here, but black metal that moves the listener to raise a fist, not in violence but in appreciation of life for all its absurdity, the highs and the rock-bottoms, is why I still find myself listening to it. Much in the same way that a death metal song describing graphic atrocities against the human body has me twerking in the kitchen.

Huta Luna feels as though Furia has jammed the fuck out of their Finnish counterparts in Havukruunu and thought they could not only play faster, but also much harder and looser. This means Furia’s new album could fall under what we would tentatively describe as “adventure metal” – black metal that venerates the spirit of adventure, swords, fantasy, horseback fighting, touching grass, and so on.

But the truth is that’s probably the “nekrofolk” talking – how the band would prefer to describe their music – rather than anything of strict thematic relevance. Though this term might cast you in mind of Furia’s utterly degenerate compatriots Dead Raven Choir, Huta Luna instead seems intent on conquering and overcoming life’s personal and social tribulations instead of dwelling on the filth of humanity. But nor is this Moonsorrow’s pomp and synthesizer cheese. It’s earthy, vital, and relatable, touching down somewhere in the no-man’s-land between early Liturgy and later Graveland.

The opener, “Zamawianie trzecie” (Third Order), kicks off with a blast of feedback, a brief moment of spoken word, then a snap of the fingers – and it is totally balls to the wall from there for the next half hour. There isn’t a shred of pessimism, hopelessness, apathy, or any of these things we find so commonly expressed in black metal. Just raw ecstasy.

Huta Luna simply doesn’t let up. Where Furia’s previous album seemed concerned with the low end, they now seem transfixed on high frequencies, traveling the length of the neck in seconds to bring a glistening, psychedelic edge to proceedings.

Take “Swawola niewola” (who knew there was such a catchy way to say “Free-spirited bondage” on Earth?), which drenches high notes in delay and reverb to create this swirling kaleidoscope of true grit. Don’t forget to join in the gang chant of the song’s title, though. Also scream “Na koń!” (On horse!) repeatedly for the next track, once again feeding into that “adventure metal” paradigm we described, which harbors an almost Western atmosphere in the way the guitars wobble. Mount up, and ride into battle against whatever personal demons you wish to run down.

Furia’s infectious melodies and breakneck pace continue unabated for eight tracks until “Gore!” eventually trips over its galloping rhythms and breaks through into… a half-hour ambient drone track?

This is a major surprise for an already left-field album. If you like your black metal fearlessly inverting expectations, it’s a guaranteed fuck on the first date. It’s almost incomprehensible how we got here compared to where Furia has come from, yet here we are, and it’s very, very good.

—Richard Currie

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Huta Luna is out now via Pagan Records.

That was rhetorical. The record is great. Better than it has any right to be, honestly. Tight songwriting, impressive technical flourishes, crushing production, and an uncompromising ferocity that bands full of young whippersnappers who know how to TikTok can’t hardly match. Cannibal Corpse’s latest feels familiar and fresh, like visiting home again after a year or two away, catching up with old friends and marking changes in the landscape since the last time you were here. It’s a marker of time, a cycle completing before beginning again, like the change of seasons or a new iPhone coming out. 

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Ascribing value to an event like this that reliably repeats is hard. Each time, it’s just a little different. You are just a little different. Reviewing a Cannibal Corpse record is like trying to review a specific birthday.

“So, another Cannibal Corpse record?” I asked Paul Mazurkiewicz, drummer and one of two remaining original members.

“Oh yea, here we are. Here we go!” he says over Zoom and rubs his hands together. There’s a huge cat tree in the background and he’s sitting a little too close to the camera. I met him one time on the Evisceration Plague Tour in 2009, and saw him talking to some fans outside. I yelled “CANNIBAL CORPSE FUCK YEA” at him. He walked across the parking lot and gave me a fist bump, asking if I enjoyed the show. I said I did and felt like the coolest person in the world. 

“If I can do something as little as taking a picture to make someone happy, I’ve done my job,” Mazurkiewicz says when I tell him the story. Cannibal Corpse’s job is to make people happy. And they do. The band’s recent gig at Brooklyn Steel with Mayhem and Gorguts was full of smiling, headbanging faces. Even Corpsegrinder cracked a smile towards the end of the night. “We love being Cannibal Corpse,” Mazurkiewicz says.

Like everybody else, Cannibal Corpse wasn’t able to do much during the height of COVID. The pandemic messed up their decades-long rhythm of write, record, tour, repeat. There was also the bizarre departure of their guitarist of 20+ years, Pat O’Brien in 2018. 

When fans finally got 2021’s Violence Unimagined, the record felt like somewhat of a revitalization after a few duller records in the 2010s. The death metal masters brought longtime friend and producer Erik Rutan (Hate Eternal, ex-Morbid Angel, ex-Ripping Corpse) formally into the fold on guitar after a brief stint filling in for O’Brien. Rutan’s playing style and enthusiasm palpably sharpened the band’s output.

Having worked with the band as a producer since 2006’s Kill, Rutan has ostensibly been another member of the band for 17 years. Mazurkiewicz says no longer leaving Rutan at the studio when they hit the post-pandemic road has been a seamless transition. “It was just meant to be,” Mazurkiewicz says.

Rutan’s pedigree as a songwriter and lyricist is well established in his other projects.  Songs like “Overtorture” from Violence Unimagined and “Frenzied Feeding” from Chaos Horrific are unequivocally Rutan’s: scrambling discordant fretwork, vertebrae-splintering transitions. Rutan’s songs bear his stylistic fingerprint but are still undeniably Cannibal Corpse, incorporating into the band’s catalog just as seamlessly as Jack Owen’s and Pat O’Brien’s legacy contributions.

The rest of the band seems invigorated by this fresh blood as well. Guitarist Rob Barret’s methodical track “Summoned For Sacrifice”, its cult dismemberment lyrics penned by Mazurkiewicz, became an instant hit since it was released as a single. Founding bassist Alex Webster’s title track “Chaos Horrific” is simultaneously technically adroit and a bit punky and anthemic, a little different than a typical Cannibal Corpse song, proving the legends can still keep fans guessing at their MO three and a half decades on.

It’s hard to imagine in a world where Kardashians wear Cannibal Corpse shirts that the band could still put out a record that both die-hard old school types and folks who may only be starting to collect patches for their battle vest can get into, let alone celebrate as “good.” The band and its fans have one of the strongest bonds in the genre and if Chaos Horrific is any indication, we all have a lot more to look forward to in this new era of Cannibal Corpse.

–Skot Thayer

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Chaos Horrific released September 22nd via Metal Blade Records.

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To discuss Kristoffer Rygg and Daniel Cardoso’s Head Control System project is to enter a time machine back to the mid-2000s, back when I was a teenager. A fledgling Ulver fan, having not even heard Cardoso’s Sirius project at that point, I was obsessed with anything and everything Garm. Arcturus, (any) Ulver–you name it, I was sold. Head Control System was no different. A continuation of Cardoso’s SinDRomE project, renamed by Rygg, Head Control System was a successful attempt at capturing the “rock” sound of its time, but with a greater experimental bent and distinctly European approach, setting it apart from American rock which dominated airwaves at the time.

Influenced by music like Tool, A Perfect Circle, and Queens of the Stone Age, but with Cardoso and Rygg’s own plethora of influences backing this approach, Head Control System’s sole album Murder Nature, released by The End Records (US) and Voices of Wonder/Jester Records (EUR) in 2006, was a departure for these two artists, both of whom at the time operated at separate ends of the musical spectrum (though both Rygg and Cardoso came from a black metal background). Smooth and rhythmic, Murder Nature took from Cardoso and Rygg’s varied backgrounds and resulted in something wondrous, but also familiar and of its time. Touching on the then-dwindling nu-metal style in songs like “Masterpiece (of Art)”, Cardoso and Rygg’s own metal backgrounds sneak through in unsuspecting ways.

An international project, with Rygg operating from his home in Oslo, Norway, and Cardoso’s studio then located in Braga, Portugal, Head Control System was tested by distance and internet collaboration. The result of Cardoso messaging Rygg on MySpace or by email (depending on which member you ask), Head Control System’s humble early days as SinDRomE quickly exploded upon Rygg’s eventual joining after hearing a handful of Cardoso’s demos of what would eventually become Murder Nature.

Hot off the heels of recording Ulver’s celebrated Blood Inside, Rygg and his family flew to Portugal for the Murder Nature vocal sessions. Spending punctuated days in the studio in order to keep his family entertained on what was essentially a “working vacation”, Rygg would go so far as to keep his youngest in a BabyBjörn whilst recording. Using a similar (read as: extended) vocal range to Blood Inside, the harder, rock-inflicted edge Rygg imbued to his voice resulted in a heavier, more punchy performance than the UIver performances to which people had become accustomed in the band’s tenure past their black metal Trilogie era.

Recorded and produced in his own studio, Cardoso doesn’t remember much from the Head Control System days, though he insists the project is still mildly active, even after what amounts to nearly twenty years past Murder Nature‘s release. Having recorded a full second album’s worth of material in the years since, it’s been up to the ever-busy Rygg, who considers the project somewhere in the “dead-but-dreaming” realm, to finish this secret second record.

Personally, revisiting Murder Nature has been a delight, both nostalgically and from a measure of quality. Though alternative rock/metal wasn’t what I expected from these artists, especially in retrospect as I become a more seasoned fan of both Cardoso and Rygg’s works, Head Control System was (is?) one of those special bands which leaves a special mark on the music scene and is deserving of such a comprehensive edition. Go ahead and drop the needle (or set your CD player’s dial) to your favorite track, be it “Baby Blue”, “Masterpiece (of Art)”, or any of the many infectious songs that comprise Murder Nature, and lose yourself in what is ultimately a fantastic rock record. It is a true masterpiece of art.

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I want to ask a big question first, because I’ve shown a few people Murder Nature and they all say the same thing–is Murder Nature a nu-metal album?

Daniel Cardoso: I wouldn’t say so. Back then nu-metal was kind of a big deal but it wasn’t exactly what I was listening to. I can see how people from the extreme metal scene would label Murder Nature a nu-metal album, but I’d never go that route myself. Maybe it fits that same type of nu-metal-ish sound but I don’t think it fits within the same kind of genre.

Kristoffer Rygg: As of 2023, you mean? I honestly wouldn’t know. It’s kind of interesting to me how some of these guys like Tommy and Mark who wrote testimonials were into the album when it came out, which – not saying they’re nu-metal–but it’s interesting because we had high hopes for the album when it was released. It’s so cool to hear from those guys so many years later that it resonated. We definitely thought it was as good as the big boys back then, you know. I remember tuning in to Queens of the Stone Age, for example, which is more groovy, cheeky, dare I say, sexy modern rock. Pretty hard to define. Something you’d just wanna blast from your car whilst cruising down the highway looking for your next victim, figuratively speaking.

I was reading reviews from around when Murder Nature was released and people didn’t know what to call it. I found that really interesting.

DC: [laughs] I would liken it more towards Tool, A Perfect Circle, and to the new prog/djent scene that kinda started with Meshuggah, and has been proliferating through bands like TesseracT or Periphery. I think what we did back then fits more within that sort of genre. This reissue is happening on Kscope too, which has a lot of bands that gravitate towards modern prog metal or a prog rock type of sound.

I want to go all the way back to the beginning with SinDRomE. How did this band start?

DC: It was mostly just me laying some riffs on a guitar and drumming over it. Then I teamed up with this cool singer named Tobel Lopes, and we did some stuff that we were pretty happy with, but then for some reason we just went separate ways–perhaps because he was living far away from me and was from a bit of a different scene. We did work again later on different projects, though, he even joined me in Anathema for a while as a touring member.

How did Kris end up joining this band and turning it into Head Control System?

DC: It’s a funny story. I remember when I was in Sirius, we had this conversation with Tomas “Samoth” (Emperor) about asking Kris to be a guest on a song. He told us it would be great, but he would probably say no. He’s too busy and isn’t the type of guy to get involved with new bands. Samoth painted this picture of him as this difficult-to-reach guy, which he was and still is. [laughs] Kris has this charisma and star quality that makes everyone feel like he is unreachable, and that’s what we were told back then. When I was looking for a singer for what was still SinDRomE, I remember I just emailed Jester Records’ general email address and introduced myself, saying I was in Sirius and was signed to Nocturnal Art Productions, et cetera. I had these songs and wanted to know if I could have direct contact with Kris. The reply was, “Hello Daniel, this is Kris. Shoot.” Something like that, so he was replying directly to me, which was pretty cool. I sent him one song and said that I wanted to do this album and was looking for a singer. His reply was, “Yeah, this is nice. I kind of like the style because it isn’t the usual kind of stuff people approach me with, but I’m busy and can’t be involved in any other projects right now. But if you want, keep sending me songs.” So I sent him a couple more songs, and I think I kept sending him songs and by the fifth or sixth song, I think he said he wanted to try some vocals. To me, it was like no fucking way.

KR: If I remember correctly, I think it was through MySpace. Those days were nice, it was suddenly very easy for musicians to connect and share some tunes. That’s actually also how I got in contact with Daniel O’Sullivan a few years after this. Anyway, I think Daniel first reached out through MySpace and we started chatting. He sent me some demos and actually some videos of him playing. Needless to say, I was quite impressed by his skills, drumming and doing everything by himself. Tore (Ylwizaker) and I were just done with Blood Inside which is something we’d worked on and off with for three years or something, so it was a kind of auspicious moment to delve into something else for a while. I liked the prospect of being a hired gun, so to speak, and not being involved with all aspects of the production. Also, I liked Daniel. It’s as simple as that.

How did the name Head Control System come to be?

DC: That was Kris. We still worked for a while under the SinDRomE name. I still have old demos and the file name was still SinDRomE and it already had Kris’ vocals. I think it was when he visited me in Portugal to do some vocal sessions, one of the conversations we had sitting at a coffee place–he said the name SinDRomE was okay, but maybe we could have a stronger name? He came up with Head Control System, and it was a good name. I was never attached to SinDRomE or words in general. I’m the music kind of guy, not the lyrics or text kind of guy. SinDRomE was something I came up with when I was twenty. In hindsight, I’m glad we changed the name because I think throughout the years Head Control System still works well.

KR: I thought we brainstormed it together, but okay maybe I did come up with it. I didn’t think SinDRomE–Severe Damage on Reason and Equilibrium–was that clever [laughs]. Not that Head Control System is, either, but it’s got a bit more spunk. It could be some fast car mechanical program or device, or it might be a sexual thing. It was a random act of putting a few words together, see what pops! The lyrics came about much in the same way. Experimenting, associating, trying to get the syllables to dance to the music. They were all written with the movements of the music in mind.

The album was released in the US on The End Records label, which was a metal and progressive rock label (for the most part). How do you feel it was received among that crowd?

DC: It’s hard to say. We never played live, we didn’t do much promo. Social networking was still just MySpace. It was hard to tell how the album was going. Years later, I met unsuspecting people from the scene who told me “Wow, that album was killer!” but back then we couldn’t know because we didn’t get any relevant feedback from our listeners. I’m guessing the album didn’t sell amazingly well, but it’s no surprise considering we didn’t do any promo and didn’t play any shows. One thing I can say today though is that it did impact some people who later became big in the prog metal scene, and are now in pretty big bands, and that’s something to be proud of.

KR: It might have been received better in the United States, but I do remember feeling disappointed by the lack of movement here in Europe.

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The next full recording you did, Kris, was Shadows of the Sun. What was it like working on this album considering what else you were working on?

KR: Well, with Blood Inside and Shadows of the Sun I was working closely with Tore [Ylwizaker]. Daniel and Tore are very different individuals. Different outlooks and technical approaches – obviously the singing style and general aesthetic is different too. There is a big stylistic shift between Blood Inside and Shadows of the Sun, of course. At the end of the day it’s just about what you set your mind to, isn’t it? What is the vision here?

Murder Nature was released with little fanfare, kind of coasting on notoriety and internet sharing rather than having a specific ad campaign. Why did you choose not to promote the album?

DC: We just weren’t bothered with it. We just let go. Kris was always busy with Ulver and had already left Arcturus and Borknagar. He was involved with a lot of stuff and we didn’t really worry too much about it. To be honest, I didn’t see a big point in doing a lot of promo since we weren’t doing shows. There was only so much one could do without playing the album live. Maybe that’s why it didn’t go farther in sales. On the other hand, it created this magic aura surrounding the album.

KR: We were naive, we probably thought it would sell itself, on the strength of the music alone, and maybe to some extent because Ulver had a good fan base. It wasn’t really common to hire publicists back then, and I do think it fell between a few cracks – the extreme metal people didn’t get it and the modern or alternative rock/metal crowd never even heard (about) it! We didn’t understand that we probably should have had someone push for it to get played on radio, for example.

There was an underground following, myself being an Ulver fan who discovered Murder Nature from Kris’ performance, but it was interesting to watch this go under the radar.

DC: It was indeed a bit under the radar when it came out, but ultimately it must have reached some people too. Throughout the years I’ve had several Head Control System “fans”, for lack of a better word, asking me about a second album on social media, so there’s that. Even today, if I post something about Head Control System I’m sure I’ll get some random person asking, “When are you guys making another album?” Well, we can give them this reissue now and see how it goes, who knows what the future might bring.

Kris, what was the process of balancing being a father and being a recording artist at the time?

KR: There’s a funny picture of me in Daniel’s apartment (which was also his studio at the time) with my one-year-old daughter in a BabyBjörn carrying vessel. I’m standing trying to sing while she’s crying her heart out. [laughs] It was quite a juggling process, but isn’t it always?

How long did it take for you to finish the vocal sessions for this album?

KR: I think something like two–three months. Not necessarily every day, but you know, just focusing on getting the main ideas down, in Oslo. Then we went to Braga for ten days or a few weeks, maybe. That was very efficient, actually. Daniel is a very hands-on guy. We got a lot done there. I was using a Digitech multi-effects guitar processor that I liked to run at least some of the vocals through. I remember going back and doing some more tests, but I don’t remember exactly how long it took. Maybe a few weeks or a month after Braga.

Was there ever any interest in pulling a band together and performing live?

DC: I was always a stage type of guy. I enjoy the studio environment, my day job is being a producer and it has been for the last twenty years or so, but what I love the most is playing on stage. However that was just not possible for Head Control System as Kris wasn’t really available. I don’t know if you remember this, but not even Ulver were playing live back then. A few years down the road, that’s when he started playing live with Ulver. And then it was just too late, too hard and too expensive to try and match schedules and find people for a possible live representation of Murder Nature. But I do remember being at this Christmas party of our label (Voices of Wonder) in Norway and someone, the label owner possibly, was begging me to convince Kris to play live. I was like, “Sure, I’ll try, but I don’t think that’s gonna happen.” [laughs] I always respected Kris’ will and reasoning behind not wanting to do any shows back then, though.

KR: It’s a lot of work, man, at least if you want it to be special on stage. And it costs a lot of money to organize and get ready for a tour. Considering all those things, and the modest success of the album, it wasn’t the first thing on my mind. Especially considering this was back then… 2006? Ulver started playing live a couple years later. I also played some gigs with Æthenor around 2008–2009, that’s when I started to dip my toes in that format. I was opening up to the idea, but this comes down to time as well. Investment. We were just two guys in different countries, we would have to recruit at least two more. It’s not something I thought much about, or even dreamed of. I always enjoyed the studio and the introspection. Creating things and recording them for eternity, so to speak. I have come to appreciate the live experience a lot more since, that goes without saying, but it’s a more transient thing. Not as important as those records!

What was it like working together in the same room as Kris flew out to Portugal for a session as everything else was done remotely?

DC: It was very easy-going. We hit it off from the start. Kris jokes that he’s half-Portuguese, himself, as he spent some years in Portugal growing up. So maybe that’s why it was really easy for us to work together and to relate as human beings. I remember we just had fun and it was pretty chill. I was living in Braga which is a small town in the north of Portugal. The town itself is also pretty chill. Everything was really smooth and easy going. I don’t remember ever being stressed about anything. It was just cool and easy.

Do you remember any stories about these sessions?

DC: No, well the only thing is Kris did come with his kids and his wife from the time. His son was three and his daughter was just a baby, so he was juggling recording sessions and being a father. I have a baby now, myself, and I know it demands a lot. It’s fucking hard work, man! But when I played with Anathema in Oslo, Kris went to see me with his son. The last time I’d seen him he was three, baby-walking around Braga. So, about fifteen years later he’s at my show, sitting at the grown-ups table, having adult conversations! It does put things into perspective and makes me feel old. [laughs]

Kris, could you fill in any blanks?

KR: I remember we went to a gig one night as Daniel was doing session live drums for a Portuguese band called R.A.M.P.–who I think were local heroes, or pretty big in Portugal. There was a big outdoor fest thing going on. That was a nice break from the studio and family proceedings. Otherwise it was pretty domestic. I had small kids, so they went to bed early. Early up. There was Portuguese coffee, always welcome. Some croquettes and straight to the studio, then family time and maybe some touristy stuff in the evening, a few Super Bocks. Nothing scandalous. That came later or before. Man, I could tell you some stories from Ulver on the road, but we never did that with Head Control System.

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The artwork is very striking–the model and the knife with the logo on it. What was the inspiration behind the art?

DC: My memory fails me as it’s been such a long time and I haven’t been in touch with some of these memories. If I remember correctly, we were just doing funny stuff on MySpace and some models had taken some photos with our logo. One of the models took that picture with the knife and we thought it was cool. The artwork was done by Pedro Daniel, a designer I knew, but I don’t remember talking to him much as I think Kris was mostly in charge of the layout. I probably had some input too, of course. I can’t remember if it was Pedro or Kris, but one of them thought it would be a good idea to put that knife photo on the cover.

KR: Well, the MySpace ladies was actually Daniel’s thing. Getting all these girls to pose with the logo, sort of pre-social media influencer shenanigans! [laughs] I didn’t object. Anyway, we put together the cover at the house of a friend of Daniel’s a little further South in Portugal. Basically this fold-out collage, combining some different things.

What was the inspiration behind the title? It’s a very striking, aggressive title.

DC: I remember Kris was doing a lot of wordplay, and we had a few other options back then. I think one was “Liminal Animal”, and I think we had some other wordplay titles too, but Murder Nature struck the most. It’s a cool title, and I am 99% sure that this was something Kris brought to the table, but I liked it from the start.

I remember Liminal Animal–that was in your MySpace bio.

DC: [laughs]

KR: It’s still on Ulver’s Facebook! It’s a Coil reference, or a Coil-esque anagram. A lot of the lyrics started like that, these sort of hang-ups, just playing with words or idioms bouncing off each other; murder-mystery stream of consciousness.

The year 2006 was a while ago now, almost twenty years, and there hasn’t been much correspondence from Head Control System since your Seal cover dropped. People don’t know what the project’s status is, so: what is Head Control System now?

DC: It was never really dead, because every once in a while me and Kris would flirt with the idea of doing another album. We were close to doing it a couple years ago, but it was just impossible to match our schedules. I was busy in the studio and with Anathema, Kris was busy with… everything! I do have a possible whole second album recorded so there’s actually a shelved fully recorded, fully produced, Head Control System instrumental album just lacking the vocals. I’m secretly hoping one day we’ll make it happen again. Who knows, maybe this reissue will help? Maybe the nostalgia will help us find the time.

KR: I feel kind of guilty about that because Daniel’s actually already made the music. But I simply haven’t found the window. The older I get the more useless I become at multitasking too. Obviously, if we were to do another one, it’ll take time. People keep saying “Just release a new album already!” but that’s quickly six months of your life, and that’s six months I haven’t had, to be honest.

Do you feel the inspiration, though?

KR: Both yes and no. I’m very proud of Murder Nature, I think it’s an objectively great record! But it’s also the kind of thing that… it belongs to a different time, and what both Daniel and I have been doing the past ten–fifteen years is different too. And that’s life! I’ve been working on some new Ulver material for a couple years now, but it’s hard to find the focus and get everyone on the same page. The idea of taking on another full album project in another headspace is a bit overwhelming for me. But again, when I listen back to Murder Nature, I am still wowed at how pro it all sounds. It’s happened so many times that I’m in the studio with someone and we play some music and I’ll pull that album out. No one knows about it, but every time people are like holy shit!

With this kind of resurgence in the “2000s-American-rock-and-metal” sound, I think a reissue like this would go over well, and who knows what will happen next!

KR: You know, Daniel and I, we’ve had long breaks in our communication over the years, but it’s been really nice talking with him again recently and bonding over the simple joy of this reissue. We’ll see what fuels the fire. Never say never, of course.

Is there anything you want to say about Head Control System?

DC: Nah. As I said before, I’m not the speaker type of guy. I’m more of a studio guy. Not so much into talking.

KR: I think I’ve said all there is to say, man. The bottom line is that I’m still fucking proud of this album, and feel childishly stoked about the opportunity to rerelease it.

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Murder Nature will be available on LP and 2CD from KScope on November 17th.

“Dolorous Gard was the original name of Lancelot’s castle. The knight winds up here after being placed under an evil enchantment. Inside, Lancelot finds his name inscribed upon a tomb and realizes that is to be his home and resting place. He renames the castle Joyous Gard after settling his household but it reverts to its old name after Lancelot breaks with Arthur and brings about the doom of the Round Table”

One of the hallmarks of Malfet is the density of the music, not just in its music but imagery. Over the course of a career, the creator has exceedingly adorned even the album titles into a pageantry of design. “Sage and Cedar Adorn His Antlered Crown Aflame” and “Wanderer, May You Pass Through Evermore Verdant Realms” are more like magic incantations rather than song titles, as they evoke a tableau of senses and emotions. Dolorous Gard follows that tradition with even the name of the album being an entry from Arthurian lore.

Malfet’s music is both melodious but also steeped in drama. The sounds which have become associated with the term “old school dungeon synth” are the constructs of ancient castles which segment landscapes. Though, unlike the predecessors of the past, Malfet’s music is not cloaked despondency but rather envisions the endless adventures of this realm’s inhabitants. Malfet’s  music exists in an agreement between comfy bardic melodies and the historics of dark fantasy. This ultimately makes the music enjoyable to experience as it rests between “ye old tavern music” and “dark dungeon music.”

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Dolorous Gard is the fourth full length from Malfet seeing a release from Dungeons Deep. It is the first release since 2020’s Alban Arthan and picks up the story as if no time has passed between then and now. Stylistically, it continues the same direction but takes things even further, with the record sounding more polished than the band have before. This makes tracks like “Meadow of Shattered Lances” and “Half-Sick of Shadows” dance as medieval plays being performed by a concert of bards. It is a production that journeys away from the bedroom sound, but something which still has roots in an at-home production.

Dolorous Gard, much like on previous records, features not only music from Malfet but hand-painted artwork as album art. Its cover and additional artwork for its inserts represents the same naive magic commonly associated with the genre; professionalism comes with wild ferocity of imagination. The images of castles with sinister glowing eyes and the shield adorned by a tree look as if they were painted by someone with a clear image in their mind and executed with the passion of boundless joy. The figure valiantly holding a sword in the face of the forbidding entrance signals the start of adventure which is an overture to a record full of merry abandonment. 

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At this year’s North East Dungeon Siege, I photographed Maflet’s set. I was excited to see the artist, as the past records have been some of the best of each year. I enjoy seeing each artist and the presentation they bring. Malfet’s setup, with their synth festooned with fairy lights, commanded a spotlight for its performance. The lights shown on the artist dressed in chainmail, as from one synth they unraveled a medieval symphony which told a thousand stories. Listening to Dolorous Gard now gives me the same feeling as a solitary figure in chainmail playing melodic synth, as if marooned from a time long lost from now. 

Dolorous Gard is available now.