A fresh blast of melodeath from the genre’s prime innovators.
Ambience, field recording, ruminant ebb and flow.
A foul, miserable EP from the foul, miserable North.
Hauntingly heavy, doom at its most soulful.
Thirty years passed, no aggression lost.
Taut and tense, yet gothically sublime soundtrack-inspired dungeon synth.
Blackened doom, aiming for anonymised authenticity.
An album for walking alone in the woods.
A pure and raucous confluence of death, black, doom and thrash.
Dark and brooding, without the melodrama.