Conjurer – Unself Review

By Dear Hollow

I’m beginning to think Mire was a fluke. I’m not saying that as a bad thing, but I remember listening to Conjurer’s debut and thinking that it was a top post-metal album steeped in atmosphere and enigma, tied together with vicious vocals and vindictive weight.1 So then, I was immensely let down by follow-up Páthos because it seemed to shed substance for novelty: if I’m being honest, its stark dichotomy of heartwrenching melodies and kickass riffs felt inauthentic and shoehorned. Thus, I approached Unself carefully, hoping for something like Mire but tentatively expecting Páthos. What I got, however, was neither. You see, Mire was a fluke not in quality but in approach, because Unself proves that Conjurer prioritizes riff, weaponizing it for the very human tale of the deconstruction of self.

The title track enters with what I would expect from an early 2010s metalcore band intro,2 the Americana cover of 1919 gospel song “I Can’t Feel At Home in this World Anymore” morphing into a full-on dissodeath takedown via a barb of squealing dissonance. While this and the final song, “The World is Not My Home” seem to tie up the album into a thematic deconstruction of religion, Unself is a bit more complex than that. It reflects the journey of vocalist/guitarist Dani Nightingale through an autism diagnosis and discovery of them being non-binary. Similarly reflecting this complexity and remaining incredibly difficult to neatly categorize its sonic assault, Conjurer lays a foundation of post-metal’s meandering rhythmic hulk with death metal intensity, sludge tonal abuse, and a sleek modern production built atop, with – in Unself – hints of black metal. It’s not the second coming of Mire – it’s Unself and undeniably on-brand and completely authentic – and that’s perfectly okay for Conjurer.

Unself’s structure shows Conjurer’s devotion to natural growth, a welcome change from the shoehorned Páthos – largely because Nightingale’s sonic struggles with self-discovery undergird the movements. The two halves of the album are divided into three tracks, bookended by the Huntsmen-influenced thematic motif of the aforesaid “I Can’t Feel at Home in This World” morphed into ugly beatdowns and yearning sadness. The meat of the two suites fall into one of three categories: the relatively traditional post-metal waltzing of Amenra’s heavier moments in sprawling weight (“All Apart,” “Foreclosure”), the yearning chord progressions and melodies recalling Páthos’ emotive emphasis to a more effective degree (“There Is No Warmth,” “Let Us Live”), or the outright assaults of blackened sludge and -core breakdowns (“The Searing Glow,” “Hang Them in Your Head”). As the album progresses, so does the intensity. The latter, the most vicious of the bunch, feel like they nearly boil over, nearly forsaking the post-metal attack for an obscure death metal attack a la Convulsing or Adversarial – making interlude “A Plea” truly the eye of the storm in its minimalist approach, distant vocal samples, and acoustic strumming.

The balance between novelty and songwriting remains an issue for Conjurer. Because of the trichotomy of its sounds, Unself offers different levels of quality. At first, the more traditional post-metal cuts (“All Apart,” “Foreclosure”) feel like absolute bangers, touched with darkness and harmony – but then you hear the other two approaches and they suddenly feel overly long and uneventful in comparison. Likewise, there are several tracks that could stand a good trimming, simply because many feature a singular abrupt tonal shift from melodic to dissonant in its last respective third (“There is No Warmth,” “Let Us Live”). A more divisive take is that Conjurer’s production is very modern and sleek, the down-tuned leads more akin to 2010s metalcore acts like The Plot in You or The Sorrow, an accessibility largely contradicting post-metal’s historic opaqueness (Neurosis) and death metal’s hostility (Bolt Thrower), so while I liked its more “loud and ouchy” tones, others may not be so persuaded.

The novelty and the emotion are resolved in Unself, as Conjurer finally feels authentic and realized. No, Unself is not better than Mire, but it feels more genuine and human than Páthos, offering some of the act’s most intense material to date while chronicling the dismantling of the self into something more authentic. Not only does Dani Nightingale embark on a journey of self-discovery, but Conjurer does too. I’m just happy to be along for the ride.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast Records
Websites: conjureruk.bandcamp.com | conjureruk.com | facebook.com/conjureruk
Releases Worldwide: October 24th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Adversarial #Amenra #BlackMetal #BoltThrower #BritishMetal #Conjurer #Convulsing #DeathMetal #DissonantDeathMetal #Huntsmen #Neurosis #NuclearBlastRecords #Oct25 #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #SludgeMetal #TheOngoingConcept #ThePlotInYou #TheSorrow #Unself #VeilOfMaya

Soulfly – Chama Review

By Grin Reaper

Max Cavalera casts one hell of a shadow in metal, with a wide swath of bands he’s either founded or played alongside. Though Cavalera’s mightiest legacy will be his time with Sepultura, he’s been with Soulfly over twice as long. In that time, Max and company have written and recorded thirteen albums. On latest offering Chama,1 the elder Cavalera relinquished producing credits and creative focus to his son and Soulfly’s drummer, Zyon, providing an opportunity for a fresh direction. Chama’s loose concept centers around a boy surviving in Brazil’s favelas.2 In the wake of his environment’s pandemonium, the boy ignites a spark for something greater, leading him into the Amazonian wilderness to kindle his inner spirit amongst the native tribes. Getting back to one’s roots is a theme explored throughout Max’s career, and one that has informed the band’s sound since the beginning. Does Chama find Soulfly going back to the primitive, or just going through the motions?

With Zyon at the artistic helm, Chama filters Soulfly’s signature sound through a darker lens and enlists a slew of support. Chama feels like a natural progression from 2022’s Totem, which embraced a more calloused aesthetic after guitarist Marc Rizzo’s departure. Where Ritual’s thrashy tendencies welded melody with indigenous flair, Totem pitched Soulfly’s sound into darker territory. Chama continues this descent, adding industrial heft that imbues extra grit into the record’s grim sound (“Ghenna,” “Black Hole Scum”). This suits the narrative’s backdrop as ‘the boy’ escapes from the overpopulated slums of a developing nation. And speaking of overcrowding, Soulfly puts out the call to arms to help Chama arise (again). The album features Fear Factory’s Dino Cazares (“No Pain = No Power”), Nails’s Todd Jones (“Nihilist”), Arch Enemy’s Michael Amott (“Ghenna”), and vocal appearances from No Warning’s Ben Cook and Unto Others’s Gabe Franco.3 Throughout the album, Igor Amadeus Cavalera handles low-end duty while Mike DeLeon (Flesh Hoarder, Philip H. Anselmo & The Illegals) picks and wails on guitar.

Rather than dulling Soulfly’s bite, age has only honed the veteran act’s edge and intensity. The last ten years have seen the band shift away from sprawling structures, preferring ten (mostly) focused tracks in under forty-five minutes. Chama ups the ante, clocking in at only thirty-three. First proper song “Storm the Gates” launches with Max in fighting form, roaring with as much vitriol as ever while he commands us to, “Fight the power, fight the greed.’ “Ghenna” and “Favela/Dystopia” further evidence Max’s conviction, tightly channeling his righteous indignation. “Favela/Dystopia” and “Black Hole Scum,” meanwhile, conjure Ministry’s mid-90s atmosphere, evoking Filth Pig’s sludgy swamp stomp between intermittent bursts of drums ‘n’ chugs. Zyon finds moments to abuse his kit with satisfying zeal, where “Storm the Gates” and “Ghenna” highlight his performance, and Igor Amadeus’s bass asserts a self-possessed and audible sweet spot in the mix.

With so much going right on Chama, it’s a shame there isn’t more of it. This is the first time that I can accuse Soulfly of not supplying enough material, though a solid thirty-three minutes could have been enough. However, with two-minute intro “Indigenous Inquisition,” four-minute instrumental “Soulfly XIII,” the unnecessarily long intro to “Always Was, Always Will Be…” and the outro in the last half of “Chama,” we’re left with about twenty-five minutes of proper meat over this flame. That’s not quite enough to sate the requirements of a full-length,4 and the remaining songs don’t afford enough variety or substance to stand on their own. In isolation, individual songs get in, jumpdafuckup, and get out, but altogether, Chama feels light by a song or two.

Chama attests that Soulfly has gas in the tank and a destination in mind, and Cavaleras & Co. prove they can still pen a rousing anthem and bring it. While I can’t say this about every Soulfly album, Chama feels vital and important to the band, and that authenticity seeps into the sludge and the fury. The filler-to-killer ratio holds Chama back, but it’s a worthwhile listen for anyone curious what Max is up to these days or with half an hour to pass. Those familiar with Soulfly won’t be surprised at what they hear, but I wager many will appreciate how the band has distilled Chama into a controlled burn.

Rating: Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast Records
Websites: Official Website | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: October 24th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AmericanMetal #ArchEnemy #BrazilianMetal #Chama #DeathMetal #FearFactory #FleshHoarder #GrooveMetal #HeavyMetal #Ministry #Nails #NoWarning #NuclearBlast #NuclearBlastRecords #Oct25 #PhilipHAnselmoAndTheIllegals #Review #Reviews #Sepultura #Soulfly #ThrashMetal #UntoOthers

Testament – Para Bellum Review

By Steel Druhm

The greats of the original American thrash scene have fallen on hard times of late. Metallica dropped a predictably disappointing platter that critics still hailed as genius, Megadeth is Megadeth, Anthrax is MIA, and Slayer is in assisted living. These days, it seems like only Overkill still stands strong and defiant, defending the old guard. But let us not forget about Testament. I’ll always have a soft spot in my jaded metal heart for them. I fondly remember seeing them open for Slayer back in 87 when no one knew who they were and their debut was weeks from dropping. Despite a stereotypically unfriendly Slayer crowd, they won us over fast with macho thrash and Chuck Billy’s larger-than-life presence. Those early albums were stone-cold classics, and they’ve weathered the storms of time and trend without too many disasters. Still, thrash is a fickle mistress, and diminishing return stalks us all. That brings us to album 13, Para Bellum. Can these olden dawgs deliver something fresh and vital? They certainly bring some surprises to the party this time at the very least.

Things kick off intensely with “For the Love of Pain,” which is fast and furious thrash with a heaping helping of black metal influence. Some sections feel like epic second-wave blasting, and though Testament dabbled in this sound before, this is closer to Eric Petterson’s Dragonlord project than the band have drifted before. I don’t dislike it, and the blackened elements give their sound a kick in the arse for sure. They even cram in some djenty bits to further shake the stew. “Infanticide A.I.” keeps the blackened elements for a raging thrasher that borders on grind at times. Riffs fly every which way, Chuck sounds genuinely insane, and the drums blast you a new asshole for free. It’s not what I consider a Testament classic, but it shows these guys can still bring it hard when they want. From there, things wander around a bunch. You get a big, epic dose of emotional power balladry in “Meant to Be,” where Testament flexes their emo sadboi muscles and throw major pathos and beautiful playing your way. Then they digress into hard rock/metal light on “Nature of the Beast.” This sounds like Testament covering a Saxon song, and that idea sounds better on paper than on wax.

Oddly, most of my favorite tracks arrive late in the game. Starting with “Room 117,” Testament lock into a late-album groove with slick, memorable writing that sticks like a greased-up prison shank. It’s a slick blend of vintage Testament and classic metal, and they pull it off perfectly with scads of great vocal hooks and memorable guitar moments. The chorus is a winner, and it reminds me of the stuff off Practice What You Preach. “Havana Syndrome” is even better, finding that sweet spot between the classic Testament sound and 80s metal, with a distinct NWoBHM influence in the leads. The closing title track is overstuffed with ideas, but most of them are good, and the blend of thrash, classic metal, and blackened bits works well. Are there downers? Well, I don’t love the aforementioned “Nature of the Beast,” and “High Noon” with its Wild West gunslinger theme is cheesy as fook. That leaves Para Bellum a mixed bag of nuts and bolts, and the band’s genre-hopping makes the album feel incohesive at times, but there are more wins than losses on the scoreboard.

Given the musical talent that adorns a Testament album, you know you’ll get a cosmic fuckton of highly polished playing, and Para Bellum is full of impressive performances. Eric Peterson and Alex Skolnick are as good a guitar tandem as there is, and no matter what genre they dip into, they do it rich, creamy justice. The level of ferocity they lock into on tracks like “Infanticide A.I.” is shocking for greybeards like them, and the sheer emotional payout on “Meant to Be” is something else. Steve DiGiorgio is a bass legend, and he’s fairly audible on most tracks, his bubbling, rumbling basslines adding depth and weight to the material. New drummer Chris Dovas (ex-Seven Spires) is a top-level kitman, providing a large collection of beats, fills, rolls, and raw thunder. Do I wish Gene Hoglan were back there still? Of course. Can Dovas get the job done? Absolutely. And then there’s Big Chuck. He sounds youthful, large, and in charge, showing a lot more versatility than you might expect as he moves from thrash barks to blackened screams and clean singing. Talent is everywhere, and only a few songwriting kerfuffles dent the soup can.

So Testament lands on the right side of the thrash grave for another release. Para Bellum won’t replace the debut or The New Order in your hearts, but it’s a worthy addition to their oeuvre and shows them embracing diverse elements rather than just rehashing old ideas. Kudos to them for that! Keep on aging gracefully, gents.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast
Websites: testamentlegions.com/site | facebook.com/testamentlegions | instagram.com/testamentofficial
Releases Worldwide: October 10th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AmericanMetal #NuclearBlastRecords #Oct25 #ParaBellum #Review #Reviews #Testament #ThrashMetal #Warbringer

Paradise Lost – Ascension Review

By Steel Druhm

As a huge fan of the salad days of the “Peaceville Three,” I felt obliged to follow Paradise Lost’s career throughout the 90s as they shifted from their raw death-doom birth through the refined melancholic doom heard on Icon, the Metallica-adjacent, stadium doom of Draconian Times, and into their Depeche Mode fancier period with Host and Believe in Nothing. That last era was a bridge too far for me, and by the time they made their way back to doom on 2005s eponymous release, I had moved on. I only paid casual attention to their output thereafter until 2020s Obsidian. That one was solid enough to get me tentatively back on board, but I didn’t come into Ascension expecting big things, just a solid late-career outing by a group of seasoned gloom-mongers. Ascension functions as a guided tour through the various eras of the band’s 35 year career, and while that could make for a very disjointed listen given the amount of ground Paradise Lost covered over the decades, it feels like a well-catered reunion of dear olde friends. More importantly, it features some of the most consistently impressive songcraft the band’s mustered in years. Age brings a certain wisdom, but sometimes you just catch lightning in a bottle. I’m not looking to overanalyze which got us here, I’m just enjoying the hearse ride.

It doesn’t hurt that Paradise Lost kick things off with one of the most aggressive and heavy songs they’ve churned out in a long time. “Serpent on the Cross” is a massive, murderous slab of doom that kicks all the crypts and tickles the mortician. It’s got mournful harmonies, weighty doom riffs, and the right amount of despair, yet it still comes hard with burly riffs and knocks you upside the head with a memorable refrain. Nick Holmes sounds born again hard, and Greg Macintosh and Aaron Aedy bring tons of heft and emotion to the string bending. This is my favorite Paradise Lost song since their heyday and I can’t stop spinning it. In fact, as my beloved and perpetually hapless N.Y. Jets got pounded into assdust Sunday, they did so to the haunting leads of this charnel beast. This victory is followed by another in the form of “Tyrants Serenade” which hits at the perfect middle ground between their Draconian Times and One Second eras. It even conjures a bit of Type O Negative magic courtesy of Olde Nick’s baritone crooning. This one is an earworm infection waiting to happen, and you should catch it. “Salvation” is the big, epic doom set piece, and it doesn’t disappoint, plodding and heaving for 7 minutes of morose glory while raising the ghosts of vintage Paradise Lost along the way. It even reminds me of Fvneral Fvkk here and there.

With a front half this massive, it was almost inevitable that things would tail off as Ascension moved along, but Paradise Lost holds the slippage to a minimum. “Silence Like the Grave” and and “Diluvium” bring that Metallica-friendly Draconian Times sound back in force for inspired doom stomp and clompers, and even when they revisit their Depeche Mode as on “Sirens,” they keep things just heavy enough to bull through painlessly. What’s so impressive is that even though the band revisits all the familiar hollowed ground, things feel fresh and new rather than recycled. Somehow Ascension manages to avoid filler and there isn’t a track here I’d call weak, though “Sirens” is merely good. At 51 minutes, the album never feels too long or bogged down, and most songs sit in the 4-5 minute window and move along briskly.

I’m high on Nick Holmes’ performance here. He sounds great and as versatile as ever, ranging from sadboi Goth croons to brutal death croaks and all stops in-between. He really gets nasty at times, even sounding downright funeral doomish at points. He’s also got a great sense of where to put the melodic clean breaks for maximum impact. Greg Macintosh and Aaron Aedy outdo themselves with a high-quality collection of riffs that cover a range of moods and styles. They bring the doom hammer down hard on the maximalist cuts like “Serpent on the Cross” and “Salvation,” but also amplify the moody cuts to keep things pulsing with vitality. The subtly morose harmonies win me over, even on the more hard-charging numbers, and the level of writing remains strong with moments of greatness dotting the runtime.

It’s rare a band as long in the tooth as Paradise Lost uncorks a late career album that can stand among the giants in their catalog, but Ascension is one such slippery aberration. It’s the kind of release your brain tells you shouldn’t be as good as it is, but after a week-plus marinating in it, the quality cannot be denied. I’m happy to see a long-running institution like Paradise Lost get another win and show they still have ichor in their cold veins. Ascension indeed!

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast
Websites: paradiselost.co.uk | facebook.com/paradiselostofficial | instagram.com/officialparadiselost
Releases Worldwide: September 19th, 2025

Grymm

So, question: say you’ve been a band for almost 40 years, and 80% of your line-up has remained completely unchanged, save for the near-Spinal Tapification that’s reserved for whoever happens to find themselves on the drum throne.1 You’ve gone from the slowest of death/doom, to near-Metallica heights of superstardom in your home country, to a severe Depeche Mode-influenced left turn, just to wrap yourselves back around through Gothic doom territory and back home to death-doom in the wildest “Peaceville Three” ouroboros ever. You’re also about to release your seventeenth album. With the exceptions of legendary acts, we’re usually lucky to see bands craft seven albums, let alone seventeen. So what do you do to keep yourselves fresh and motivated? What do you bring to the party that will not only excite your longtime fanbase, but also hopefully bring in some fresh faces to your music?

If you’re Paradise Lost, you simply condense all of your experiences into a singular vision, and write your best collection of songs to date. Ascension lives up to the promise of its name, given how much of this album soars above its peers in both heft and hook. From the opening riff of “Serpent of the Cross” to the fading of the closing guitar solo in “The Precipice,” 51 minutes of doom metal have never flown by so damn fast before, nor would it had the material been written by less experienced hands. Since a good portion of this album is DOOOOOOM (in all caps-locked letters, complete with at least 6 O’s), that’s no easy feat.

And how DOOOOOOM are we talking? Take third track (and album highlight) “Salvation.” Between the foreboding riffs of Gregor Mackintosh and Aaron Aedy, Mackintosh’s mournful melodies, and new/former drummer Guido Zima Montanarini guiding the back-end like a funeral march, “Salvation” could have easily fit in on Strigoi’s last album had it not been for Nick Holmes’ vocal performance, whether it’s in his cavernous growls, his anguished mid-range cleans during the chorus, or even the impressive higher-ranged singing towards the end. “Salvation” presents itself as a masterclass in epic doom/death musicianship and songwriting, and one that’s making a mad run for Song o’ the Year honors come December.

It’s not like there aren’t any other challengers for that spot on Ascension, either. Late album scorcher “Diluvium” starts off as a plodding, downtrodden number, before riffing up a storm towards the song’s latter half, with Mackintosh cutting loose with solo after solo. “Lay a Wreath Upon the World,” one of the few Paradise Lost numbers to feature an acoustic guitar, pulls you in with hypnotic female wailing and pensive atmosphere. “Silence Like the Grave” and “Tyrant’s Serenade” bring the speed up just enough, acting as energizing mood-setters for the album’s front half. And that’s the only qualm I really have with the album; the album feels front-loaded with the faster numbers, with the album’s second half being more moody and slower. There’s not a song on here I would consider to be “filler,” but it’s an observation that stuck around even after the album’s wrapped up.

Paradise Lost have every right to dial it in right now, having cemented themselves as legends of death/doom metal. Thank fuck they didn’t, though, as Ascension has comfortably nestled itself amongst my top five favorite Paradise Lost albums, acting as a strong thread between the unfuckwithable Draconian Times, their underrated dark horse Faith Divides Us – Death Unites Us, and their return to the grave in The Plague Within. Who would have thought that, by reaching into their vault of classic albums, they would not only put together something fresh and timeless, but also make a strong case for one of their best ever? Easily a Top Ten contender, and one of the year’s best doom metal albums, bar none.

Rating: 4.0/5.0

#2025 #35 #40 #Ascension #DoomMetal #DraconianTimes #GothicDoom #Metallica #NuclearBlastRecords #Obsidian #ParadiseLost #Review #Reviews #Sep25 #Strigoi #TypeONegative #UKMetal

Nailed to Obscurity – Generation of the Void Review

By Tyme

As I settle further into my staff position here at AMG headquarters1 I still feel a slight trepidation when grabbing a promo tagged “waived seniority.” With Nailed to Obscurity’s fifth long-player, Generation of the Void, however, such is the case, and for reasons we don’t discuss with fans, it has fallen to me to pick up where our hairy overlord, Steel, left off. His rave review of Nailed’s 2017 album King Delusion took the act from obscurity to notoriety and, in so doing, landed a spot on his top ten that year. While slightly less enamored with 2019’s Black Frost, it’s clear from that reading Steel still harbored quite a bit of love for this German quintet, which not only raises the stakes for Generation of the Void, but for me as well. Curtailing my excitement, I can only hope to do the ape proud by not doing what Chris Farley did to his pet sale in Tommy Boy, the ‘sale’ played here by my review. Will Generation of the Void have you breaking out your Sadboi twin power rings, ready to activate? Shape of a box of tissues? Form of a river of tears? Let’s dig in and find out.

Generation of the Void finds Nailed to Obscurity further down the path of Opethic progressivism they established on Black Frost. Accomplished through a heightened emphasis on post-metal atmospheres, ear-forward synth-work, and Raimund Ennenga’s clean vocals, which vibe muchly with Ghost’s Tobias Forge, and occupy as much or more of the spotlight as his more compelling Mikael Åkerfeldtian growls. Jan-Ole Lamberti’s and Volker Dieken’s guitar work, albeit less deathly doomed, is full of effectively executed melodic solos, post-metallically strummed chords, cleanly picked leads, and Leprous-esque, prog-stuttery riff patterns (“Echo Attempt,” ” The Ides of Life”). Jann Hillrichs’ drumming continues to hold its own, sans overt technicality, by remaining chest-crushingly powerful, and alongside the work of newly added bassist Lutz Neemann, holds down a low end that adds depth to Nailed’s overall lighter, more reserved sound. Miles away from the deathlier King Delusion, the shift in direction Generation of the Void represents will be the fulcrum on which the remainder of Nailed to Obscurity’s career teeters.

While most of the decisions Nailed made didn’t resonate with me on Generation of the Void, the opening triptych of songs sets a very positive tone. A satisfying tug-of-war between heavy and light, “Liquid Mourning”‘s pensive chords and haunting leads marry well with Ennenga’s improved cleans, while the catchy, growled chorus roars over weighty death riffs. This track bookended well by the driving riffs, impassioned leads, and melodic solo of opener “Glass Bleeding” and the heavily melodic, death-doomy delight that is “Overcast,” which throws the longest shadow over the Nailed to Obscurity of olde by exclusively featuring Ennenga’s excellent growls. These three tracks serve as a red herring and a shepherd through Generation of the Void’s gate into realms I have dubbed Nailed to Obscurity lite.

While I appreciate Nailed to Obscurity’s attempt to push their own boundaries, the overly poppy, ‘Woooaaahhh-Ohhhh’ hooks of “Spirit Corrosion”‘s chorus signal a crack in Generation’s engageability, departing from the previously set stage. A tone that continues through the cleanly crooned title track to the overly bloated eight-plus-minute “Echo Attempt,” full of soft synths, Leprous-y riffs, and brief flirtation with growls, then onto Generation’s ballad “Allure,” with its Ghostly cleans, marshmallowy keys and delicately plucked chords. This section of Generation lulled me into a near-sleep state, finding me checking the clock, only to realize I had nearly fifteen of Generation’s fifty-five-minute runtime left to go. Luckily for me, “Clouded Frame” came crashing in to awaken me, the last real bright spot of the album. It’s moody riffs, impassioned cleans, brutally catchy growled choruses, and final, triumphantly roared scream rank as my favorite track.

There will be as many who bemoan Nailed in Obscurity’s newest direction as there will be those who applaud it. For me, mostly dogless in the fight outside of this writing, I can objectively gauge the quality inherent to Generation of the Void, despite my primarily subjective apathy. There are a handful of songs here that I will return to, but there’s more that I won’t worry about listening to again. What Nailed to Obscurity chooses to do on the heels of Generation of the Void will certainly bear hearing, and I’ll be interested enough to keep my ears peeled.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: September 5th, 2025

#2025 #30 #DeathMetal #GenerationOfTheVoid #GermanMetal #Ghost #Leprous #NailedToObscurity #NuclearBlastRecords #Opeth #PostMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Sep25