Loathe — I Let It in and It Took Everything
The fusion of din and dream finds its masterpiece: 86/100 for a second album that haunts long after.
The fusion of din and dream finds its masterpiece: 86/100 for a second album that haunts long after.
The masked collective turn metal into a love liturgy: 84/100 for a third album impossible to file.
The Americans reconnect with their 2007 masterpiece: 82/100 for an outsized prog fresco.
The Danes wed djent, pop and electronics with grace: 81/100 for an immediate, refined record.
The Swedes refine their melodic progressive metal: 80/100 for a limpid, committed record.
The instrumental trio push the limits of the guitar: 82/100 for a record of dizzying virtuosity.
Pennsylvania death metal opens to saxophone and introspection: 83/100 for a daring record.
The Australians deliver their gravest, most accomplished record: 85/100 for a haunted work.
The London collective cross virtuosity with an imaginary bestiary: 82/100 for a playful, learned record.
The Norwegians reconnect with weight and tension: 82/100 for a record that restores density to progressive metal.
The Rochester trio close their pandemic trilogy in weightlessness: 82/100 for a hovering, hypnotic record.
The Americans pursue their melodic metamorphosis: 80/100 for an accessible, colourful record, not without risks.
Matt Pike's beast still roars as loud as ever: 81/100 for an implacable sludge record.
The Chicago instrumental trio harden their tone: 82/100 for a rougher, denser record.
The Americans' progressive metamorphosis reaches its fullness: 84/100 for a luminous psychedelic journey.
The Boston veterans reconnect with breadth: 83/100 for a rich, generous return after loss.
79/100 and no song that lets you down: Denver's epic doom restarts without reinventing its axe.
The German collective close their geological fresco with restraint: 82/100 for a record more atmospheric than ever.
The Swedish masters of post-metal unfold their sonic cathedrals: 83/100 for a monumental record.
A single eighty-three-minute piece, suspended outside time: 84/100 for a monument of slowness.
The Americans' luminous doom grows heavier: 83/100 for a fourth album shot through with grief.
The priestess of electronic goth reinvents herself: 82/100 for a record of intimate rebirth.
The Belgians' sonic ritual reaches a new intensity: 84/100 for a record of liturgical gravity.
The Great War set to music: 82/100 for a brutal, documented record on the horror of the trenches.
Portuguese black metal steps up: 83/100 for a record of visceral intensity.
The father of blackgaze finds the light again: 84/100 for a record of luminous grace.
Black metal turned crepuscular western: 84/100 for a fresco on the myth of the American West.
The negro spiritual meets black metal: 82/100 for a third album consolidating a stroke of genius.
Quebecois black metal in its sharpest form: 85/100 for a record of undiminished fury.
An avant-garde firebrand against social injustice: 87/100 for one of the most original records of the year.
A lone American's great winter work: 85/100 for a glacial, devastating meditation.
When the saxophone haunts black metal: 85/100 for a Ukrainian record of nocturnal beauty.
The most famous institution of death metal does not falter: 80/100 for a record of metronome regularity.
The pioneers of putrid death metal stay true to their grime: 81/100 for a record of gleeful insalubrity.
Arizona death metal gains melody without losing power: 82/100 for a record built to last.
The new guard of old-school death metal embrace their heritage: 82/100 for a jubilant, uncomplexed record.