Diatheke – …And the Word Was God Review

By Killjoy

It’s no secret that many of us here at Angry Metal Guy share an outsized fascination with progressive death metal. It has a seemingly infinite capacity for pathos and logos to raise one another to otherwise unreachable heights. It can also assume wildly different forms from artist to artist, which appeals to those who are always looking for something fresh and unexpected. This is what led me to Diatheke,1 from Dallas, Texas, and their debut …And the Word Was God. As a Christian group, their album’s concept is biblical, both literally and figuratively, representing the first moments of the universe’s existence through the final days of humanity. The scope of this concept is about as enormous as they come, but if any genre can pull it off, it would be progressive death.

It, then, caused me considerable consternation to discover that Diatheke married their prog death with metalcore. To be clear, I wouldn’t disparage something solely for having metalcore influence, but here the two styles clash hard. The musical compositions, which reach for—while never quite attaining—the dramatic, theatrical grandeur of Ne Obliviscaris, are often buried like the wicked during the Great Flood by a deluge of scalding screams, gruff growls, and cloying clean vocals. Elements of melodic death metal and deathcore attempt to bridge the gap between the two aesthetics with some success, but they tend to devolve into chugging breakdowns peppered with double bass. Congruous unions of the fundamentally opposite objectives of prog and metalcore might exist somewhere, but this is not one of them.

It doesn’t help that …And the Word Was God mainly inherited the less desirable attributes of both its parent genres. It has some of progressive death’s intricacy but little of its overarching cohesion. Diatheke discharges a slew of ideas that are rarely borne to fruition, yielding song fragments that are stuck together haphazardly. “The Coronation” opens with a regal guitar and synth melody befitting of the song’s title, only to inexplicably rip it away for a monotonous growled verse atop nondescript riffs. Many other transitions are navigated in like manner with the grace and subtlety of a snowplow. Things might have been salvageable if more of the individual components commanded the hooky sensibilities of metalcore but, aside from a chorus in “The Coronation” and a resurfacing guitar line in “The Creation,” there are no recurring features to cling to for memorability across the hour runtime.

These fundamental flaws all but smother the bright spots scattered throughout …And the Word Was God. There are some genuinely compelling moments—like the back-to-back guitar and bass solos in “The Redeemer”—but in their isolation, they wither like branches without a vine. Frustratingly, most of the instrumentation, which ranges from inoffensive to decent, is muddied by the vocals. Three band members (Peter Watson, John Wesley, and Michael Osborn) are credited with vocals, though the problem isn’t too many cooks in the kitchen so much as the cooks preparing the wrong order. The screams that permeate …And the Word Was God sound out of place in this type of music, distracting and detracting from any emotion the listener might have otherwise gleaned. Conversely, the singing in the intro of “The Promise” and the conclusion of “The Creator” offer glimpses of how impassioned the album could have been with a more befitting vocal approach.

In the end, …And the Word Was God doesn’t have enough redeeming qualities to overcome its glaring macro and micro issues. It’s likely too disjointed to appeal to the progressive death crowd and not immediate enough to please metalcore enthusiasts. While there are worse sins for a young band than struggling to rein in their ambitions, it’s difficult to enjoy something this unfocused and self-conflicting. But with youth comes the inherent potential for growth if Diatheke can concentrate their efforts and attention. There is an audience out there for them; they just have to pick one.

Rating: 1.5/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Rottweiler Records
Websites: diathekerr.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/diathekemusic
Releases Worldwide: March 21st, 2025

#AndTheWordWasGod #15 #2025 #AmericanMetal #Diatheke #Mar25 #MelodicDeathMetal #Metalcore #NeObliviscaris #ProgressiveDeath #Review #Reviews #RottweilerRecords

Anciients – Beyond the Reach of the Sun Review

By Saunders

Canada’s Anciients made an explosive impact on a pair of ambitious albums, courtesy of 2013’s promising Heart of Oak debut, and 2016’s flawed though frequently great sophomore opus Voice of the Void. Displaying a fresh penchant for chunky, intricate progressive metal featuring sludge, stoner and psychedelic elements, Anciients displayed influences like early Mastodon, Intronaut and Opeth as touchstones to a vibrant sound they could call their own. Then shit went dark as a series of personal events and line-up changes halted momentum. News of a long-awaited return filtered through, resulting in the release of their eagerly awaited third album Beyond the Reach of the Sun, featuring striking Adam Burke cover art. Hardships and the passage of time perhaps places question marks on whether Anciients can expand upon their formula to achieve prime career results.

Beyond the Reach of the Sun exhibits trademark songwriting characteristics and fresh ideas, whipped into an ambitious prog opus, carrying familiar traits from its predecessors, while forging its own path. Heart of Oak and Voice of the Void have grown in stature over the years; however, I have been patiently waiting for Anciients to deliver a knockout album to fulfill their enormous potential. Beyond the Reach of the Sun features a gloomy, melancholic undertone contrasting against a vibrant and adventurous songwriting framework that doubles down on the prog without neglecting the other multi-genre hues, including shades of hard rock, sludge, folk, psych, and death. Parting ways with guitarist/co-vocalist Chris Dyck, mastermind Kenny Cook (vocals/guitars) and drummer Mike Hannay are joined by new members Brock MacInnes (guitars) and Rory O’Brien (bass). Cook handles all vocal duties, with his smoother, emotive croons complimented by beefy, Åkerfeldt-esque death growls for extra punch.

Beyond the Reach of the Sun sounds like a blockbuster culmination of the band’s career to date, rejuvenated after the preceding tumultuous years. The exuberant, technical flourishes and proggy indulgences are ever present, while shreddy, groovy guitar work forms a gripping center point. Like many a grand prog album, Beyond the Reach of the Sun operates best in its entirety. The slightly odd single choices (“Melt the Crown,” “Cloak of the Vast and Black,” and “In the Absence of Wisdom”) fit fluidly in full album context, fine examples of their intricate, psych-enhanced prog metal and hooky songcraft. Soaring melodies, gripping musicianship and mellower musings collide with more full-blooded riff and vocal assaults. Longer form cut “Forbidden Sanctuary” is a curious opening selection. Its slow build heightens tension before unfurling into an effectively moody, progressive sludge rocker. Cook’s excellent clean vocal melodies worm their way into your brain as sparkling guitar harmonies and noodling jams give way to an all-guns-blazing climax, where death roars and frantic blasts take hold.

More concise heavier songs color the album’s varied palette and progressive overtones. “Despoiled” boasts serious fucking teeth to match its groovier prog rock swagger, enlivened by beefed-up riffs, irresistible hooks, and an intense, headbangable closing gallop. Meanwhile, “The Torch” is another stellar, memorable example of Anciients digging into their heavier roots, unleashing one of many sizzling guitar solos rippling through the album. Beyond the Reach of the Sun is an epic guitar album, with Cook and MacInnes the stars of the show. Exuding confidence, technicality and style, the duo stuff the album full of gorgeous melodies and harmonies, psychedelic touches, and burly sludge rock meets prog-death riffage. Cook also nails his increased vocal responsibilities. His cleans are constantly gripping, sounding more confident and assured, while expressing the fragile emotional journey that led to the album’s eventual conception. Vocal highlights are aplenty, however, the mournful, yet hopeful turn on doom-laced epic “Is it Your God” hits with particularly wrenching impact. Meanwhile, the regularly deployed death growls land some killer blows, lending a punch of heaviness to proceedings.

Not all is peachy. Although Anciients most concise and consistent album, self-editing could still use improvement. While the album doesn’t lag or stall as such, a few meandering moments suggest careful trimming of the fattier bits may have reaped benefits. The solid production lacks dynamics, and a warmer, breathable master would have done wonders, while the meatier guitar sections could stand to pack more weight and horsepower. Song sequencing could use a subtle tweak as well. Overall, these are relatively minor quibbles in the big scheme of things and fail to significantly hinder a superbly written and performed album, marking a welcome return and striking evolution of the Anciients sound and wondrous progressive metal showcase.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6| Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Season of Mist
Websites: anciients.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/ANCIIENTSRIFFS
Releases Worldwide: August 30th, 2024

#2024 #40 #Anciients #BeyondTheReachOfTheSun #CanadianMetal #Intronaut #Mastodon #Opeth #ProgRock #ProgressiveDeath #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #SeasonOfMistRecords #SludgeRock

Eigenstate Zero – The Malthusian Review

By Maddog

After a six-month hiatus from writing (and most everything else), I couldn’t resist reviewing an artist with eigen- in their name. My excitement for linear algebra drew me to Eigenstate Zero’s third record, despite my inkling that “eigenstate zero” was a nonsense phrase.1 Unsurprisingly, Eigenstate Zero is a solo prog project, and The Malthusian offers 78 indulgent minutes of off-kilter death metal from Sweden’s Christian Ludvigsson. The album is full of surface-level variety, mixing riffy goodness with keyboard melodies and copious genre experimentation. And yet, its strengths and weaknesses are exactly what you’d expect, for a 78-minute prog-death album with a sci-fi name.

The Malthusian combines hit-or-miss death metal with hit-or-miss prog tropes. The death metal foundation of Eigenstate Zero’s sound is executed with mixed success. Even The Malthusian’s shorter straightforward tracks sometimes misfire with by-the-books riffs that lack the genre’s power (“Serfs & Zealots,” “Reset”). Conversely, The Malthusian slays when it remains laser-focused on engaging its listeners. The title track’s hefty riffs could hold their own against death metal’s best, while its creative rhythms and keys lean deftly into Eigenstate Zero’s prog sensibilities. Meanwhile, groovy bass lines (“Telomeres”) and thoughtfully ballistic drums (“Mindcrime”) make the rhythm section a highlight throughout. Despite those successes, The Malthusian struggles with prog idioms. Digressions like the waltz of “Spiritdebris,” the theatrical clean vocals of “Thingfish Diaries,” and the gratuitous wind sections of “Holomind” feel like weirdness for weirdness’ sake. Echoing Serdce’s craziness without Serdce’s writing prowess, The Malthusian’s proggy bits often lose my interest.

The Malthusian’s frequent lack of cohesion makes it a jumbled listen. The album’s ambition is admirable, but it tends to long jump between disparate styles without the requisite effort to glue them together. The Malthusian’s proggy shenanigans often feel jammed between unrelated neighbors, like the cabaret melodies and keyboard detours of “Black Pages.” At their worst, these aren’t just isolated missteps; rather, tracks like “Orch Or” fall flat by cobbling together jigsaw pieces from different puzzles for their entire runtime. Still, The Malthusian’s choice cuts demonstrate songwriting excellence. Album highlight “Mindcrime” channels Alustrium with caveman riffs, proggy rhythms, an acoustic break, and soaring solos, blended together perfectly and tied up with a thoughtful bow. I wish the rest of the record had followed suit.

Now for the elephant in the room: The Malthusian is elephantine. Even the better songs could use a trim, like the fluid but beefy ten-minute title track. The back half of the record is particularly bloated, housing all but one of the album’s chunkiest pieces. As a result, The Malthusian is a tiresome listen, extending for nearly eighty minutes with only enough compelling material for half of that. Adding to the excess, the album’s crushed production makes it difficult to identify interesting melodies above the din. Exhausted by both sonic clutter and a glut of content, I struggle to distinguish or recall much of The Malthusian. Indeed, it took me multiple spins to realize that the promo materials included an extra copy of “Telomeres” in place of “Reset.” Some more restraint would go a long way for Eigenstate Zero.

While The Malthusian doesn’t have any single fatal flaw, its missteps hold it back. The album’s riffs and melodies suffer from inconsistency, especially when they veer into prog exhibitionism. On a macroscopic level, the lack of restraint in The Malthusian’s composition and production hampers the final product. The record’s apexes display a talent for melody and composition that’ll keep me hopeful for Eigenstate Zero’s next release. But despite its ambition, The Malthusian hasn’t left much impression on me. In the linear transformation of my ears, Eigenstate Zero’s newest release has eigenvalue zero.2

Rating: ​2.0/5.0
DR:​ 7 | ​Format Reviewed:​ 320 kbps mp3
Label: ​Self-Released
Websites: ​eigenstatezero.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide​: May 17th, 2024

#20 #2024 #Alustrium #DeathMetal #EigenstateZero #Independent #IndependentRelease #IndependentUnsigned #May24 #ProgressiveDeath #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #Serdce #SwedishMetal #TheMalthusian