Carach Angren have always operated at the intersection of theatrical excess and genuine musical artisanry, conjuring nightmarish soundscapes that blur the line between symphonic metal and cinematic horror composition. With The Cult Of Kariba, their latest EP, the Dutch ensemble once again proves why they remain among the most compelling purveyors of orchestral darkness in contemporary metal.
From the opening moments, The Cult Of Kariba establishes an atmosphere of creeping unease that only deepens as the EP unfolds. The production is pristine yet oppressive, with each instrument occupying its own distinct space within the mix. The orchestral arrangements—penned with meticulous attention to detail—weave around the metal instrumentation like serpents coiling around their prey.
The EP's central conceit—a descent into ritual madness and cultic devotion—manifests itself in the lyrical content and overall aesthetic presentation. There is a deliberate narrative arc at work here, one that reveals itself slowly across the runtime, rewarding attentive listeners with the sensation of uncovering hidden texts or forbidden knowledge.
From the opening moments, The Cult Of Kariba establishes an atmosphere of creeping unease that only deepens as the EP unfolds. The production is pristine yet oppressive, with each instrument occupying its own distinct space within the mix. The orchestral arrangements—penned with meticulous attention to detail—weave around the metal instrumentation like serpents coiling around their prey.
The EP's central conceit—a descent into ritual madness and cultic devotion—manifests itself in the lyrical content and overall aesthetic presentation. There is a deliberate narrative arc at work here, one that reveals itself slowly across the runtime, rewarding attentive listeners with the sensation of uncovering hidden texts or forbidden knowledge.
Svar Johansson's vocal delivery serves as the primary vehicle for this storytelling, his range extending from guttural growls that emerge from the depths to soaring clean passages that recall the great operatic traditions. The contrast between these extremes is jarring and intentional, forcing the listener into uncomfortable juxtapositions that mirror the psychological unravelling described in the lyrics.
Thematically, The Cult Of Kariba explores concepts of devotion, transformation, and the thin membrane separating spiritual enlightenment from psychological dissolution. The EP suggests that the line between religious transcendence and cultish indoctrination is perhaps far more permeable than we might wish to believe.
Thematically, The Cult Of Kariba explores concepts of devotion, transformation, and the thin membrane separating spiritual enlightenment from psychological dissolution. The EP suggests that the line between religious transcendence and cultish indoctrination is perhaps far more permeable than we might wish to believe.
This is heady material, presented with an artistic sophistication that elevates the work beyond mere shock value or aesthetic posturing. The band clearly has something to say, and they have crafted a musical vehicle sufficiently compelling to make that message resonate on a visceral level.
The vocal performance deserves additional emphasis. Svar Johansson has rarely sounded more controlled or expressive. Whether delivering clean passages that recall Flotsam and Jetsam's Eric A.K. or unleashing primal growls that tap into genuine darkness, he commands complete control over his instrument. There is no sense of strain or effort, no indication that he is pushing beyond his capabilities; instead, every note feels considered and purposeful. The occasional use of additional vocal layers creates haunting harmonies that enhance the orchestral arrangement without cluttering the mix.
The Cult Of Kariba is deliberately unconventional, thematically dark, and constructed in a manner that prioritizes artistic vision over commercial palatability. For those willing to meet the band on their terms, however, it offers a richly rewarding experience that repays close listening and repeated engagement. The compositions reveal new details with each encounter, layers of meaning and musical sophistication that only become apparent after sustained interaction.
The Cult Of Kariba is a statement of intent from a band that refuses to rest on past accomplishments or settle for complacency. It is ambitious, accomplished, and absolutely essential for those who have followed the band's trajectory over the years. This is darkened metal as an art form, uncompromising and genuinely inventive.
A Descent Into Orchestral Horror and Symphonic Dread. 7/10
Kuro - Circling The Drain (Self Released) [Spike]
There’s a rawness to Kuro’s latest EP that feels like a confession whispered in the dark. Circling The Drain is a relentless dive into industrial-electro-metal, where every beat pulses with urgency and every riff cuts with precision. It's not just music; it's a visceral experience.
The EP opens with Closing In, a track that builds tension from the first note, drawing you into its chaotic embrace. The rhythm section drives forward with relentless energy, while the synths swirl around, creating an atmosphere of impending doom. It's a fitting introduction to the EP's themes of entrapment and struggle.
No Exit follows, upping the ante with its aggressive pace and distorted vocals. The track's relentless drive mirrors the feeling of being trapped in a cycle with no escape, echoing the EP's central motif. The industrial elements are more pronounced here, with mechanical beats and harsh synths creating a sense of claustrophobia.
I Hate You (feat. Laurie Black) introduces a guest feature that adds a new layer to the EP's sonic landscape. Laurie Black's contribution brings a contrasting texture to Kuro's sound, with her ethereal vocals providing a haunting counterpoint to the aggressive instrumentation. The track's intensity is palpable, with each note delivered with conviction.
Insane continues the EP's exploration of inner turmoil, its pounding rhythms and distorted vocals conveying a sense of madness and disarray. The track's structure is dynamic, shifting between moments of chaos and brief respites, reflecting the unpredictable nature of mental instability.
The EP concludes with Opium, a track that lingers in the mind long after it ends. Its hypnotic rhythms and atmospheric synths create a dreamlike state, offering a moment of introspection amidst the chaos. It's a fitting end to an EP that takes the listener on an emotional and sonic journey.
Kuro has crafted an EP that doesn't just play; it immerses. Circling The Drain is a testament to their ability to blend aggression with atmosphere, creating a sound that's both intense and introspective. It's a ride worth taking, if you dare. 8/10
Irreparable - The Fate Of All Life (These Hands Melt) [Joe Guatieri]
Irreparable are a Darkwave and Blackened Industrial band out of Melbourne, Australia who formed in 2019. Having two EPs under their belt, today I’ll be taking on their first full-length effort, The Fate Of All Life.
From the beginning of the record, with the interlude of Revelations, going into Upon Malignant Shores, The Fate Of All Life makes its statement clear. Irreparable drops you into a Cyberpunk FPS PC game from the 90s, with an icy, at times nonsensical, drum machine to match. The second track presents the guitars and bass that feel just meaty enough to be present, like they had to show up to their younger brother’s Birthday party. The vocals are completely buried in the mix, over the course of the album it feels like a stylistic choice but it doesn’t do it many favours.
The vocal performance deserves additional emphasis. Svar Johansson has rarely sounded more controlled or expressive. Whether delivering clean passages that recall Flotsam and Jetsam's Eric A.K. or unleashing primal growls that tap into genuine darkness, he commands complete control over his instrument. There is no sense of strain or effort, no indication that he is pushing beyond his capabilities; instead, every note feels considered and purposeful. The occasional use of additional vocal layers creates haunting harmonies that enhance the orchestral arrangement without cluttering the mix.
The Cult Of Kariba is deliberately unconventional, thematically dark, and constructed in a manner that prioritizes artistic vision over commercial palatability. For those willing to meet the band on their terms, however, it offers a richly rewarding experience that repays close listening and repeated engagement. The compositions reveal new details with each encounter, layers of meaning and musical sophistication that only become apparent after sustained interaction.
The Cult Of Kariba is a statement of intent from a band that refuses to rest on past accomplishments or settle for complacency. It is ambitious, accomplished, and absolutely essential for those who have followed the band's trajectory over the years. This is darkened metal as an art form, uncompromising and genuinely inventive.
A Descent Into Orchestral Horror and Symphonic Dread. 7/10
Kuro - Circling The Drain (Self Released) [Spike]
There’s a rawness to Kuro’s latest EP that feels like a confession whispered in the dark. Circling The Drain is a relentless dive into industrial-electro-metal, where every beat pulses with urgency and every riff cuts with precision. It's not just music; it's a visceral experience.
The EP opens with Closing In, a track that builds tension from the first note, drawing you into its chaotic embrace. The rhythm section drives forward with relentless energy, while the synths swirl around, creating an atmosphere of impending doom. It's a fitting introduction to the EP's themes of entrapment and struggle.
No Exit follows, upping the ante with its aggressive pace and distorted vocals. The track's relentless drive mirrors the feeling of being trapped in a cycle with no escape, echoing the EP's central motif. The industrial elements are more pronounced here, with mechanical beats and harsh synths creating a sense of claustrophobia.
I Hate You (feat. Laurie Black) introduces a guest feature that adds a new layer to the EP's sonic landscape. Laurie Black's contribution brings a contrasting texture to Kuro's sound, with her ethereal vocals providing a haunting counterpoint to the aggressive instrumentation. The track's intensity is palpable, with each note delivered with conviction.
Insane continues the EP's exploration of inner turmoil, its pounding rhythms and distorted vocals conveying a sense of madness and disarray. The track's structure is dynamic, shifting between moments of chaos and brief respites, reflecting the unpredictable nature of mental instability.
The EP concludes with Opium, a track that lingers in the mind long after it ends. Its hypnotic rhythms and atmospheric synths create a dreamlike state, offering a moment of introspection amidst the chaos. It's a fitting end to an EP that takes the listener on an emotional and sonic journey.
Kuro has crafted an EP that doesn't just play; it immerses. Circling The Drain is a testament to their ability to blend aggression with atmosphere, creating a sound that's both intense and introspective. It's a ride worth taking, if you dare. 8/10
Irreparable - The Fate Of All Life (These Hands Melt) [Joe Guatieri]
Irreparable are a Darkwave and Blackened Industrial band out of Melbourne, Australia who formed in 2019. Having two EPs under their belt, today I’ll be taking on their first full-length effort, The Fate Of All Life.
From the beginning of the record, with the interlude of Revelations, going into Upon Malignant Shores, The Fate Of All Life makes its statement clear. Irreparable drops you into a Cyberpunk FPS PC game from the 90s, with an icy, at times nonsensical, drum machine to match. The second track presents the guitars and bass that feel just meaty enough to be present, like they had to show up to their younger brother’s Birthday party. The vocals are completely buried in the mix, over the course of the album it feels like a stylistic choice but it doesn’t do it many favours.
Later we are presented with track four Exposed which feels like the outlier on this album with its softer touch. Dare I say, this song is very Grunge inspired, it was only missing the constant yarling. The guitar is doused in a nice chorus effect as male and female vocals dance around, hand in hand. Though the male singer was evidently singing with a wink a nudge to the listener, this is genuinely a good ballad-esqe number and stands as my favourite song on the album. Soft and sweet, it’s a blanket to stop you from facing the cold.
Going deeper we are presented with the closer, Death In A Time Capsule. At just over eleven minutes long, it towers above the rest of the songs at length and just keeps my attention long enough to keep me just about satisfied.
Going deeper we are presented with the closer, Death In A Time Capsule. At just over eleven minutes long, it towers above the rest of the songs at length and just keeps my attention long enough to keep me just about satisfied.
It presents all that we’ve heard before, packed neatly into a box with the Black Metal blasts, dingy dark Goth club beats and a drum machine which submits to its robot overlord. It feels very restrained, much like the rest The Fate Of All Life, it could have gone so much further. Sure there are snippets where you bang your head at catchy sections but unfortunately they never last for too long.
That perfectly describes Irreparable’s first studio album to me, on paper being described as a Blackened Industrial experience, I was super excited in the beginning but it was so not that way. It had a tiny little morsel of that feeling but this is more Darkwave than anything else with a clear 80s influence.
This is a Goth band experimenting with Black Metal. They are clearly fans of that world and have put in a bit of effort, the guitars at least show that but this is just cosplay. Again the drum machine just irritates me, it’s like going onto YouTube and hearing someone’s poor attempt at recreating any Type O Negative album using the Super Mario 64 soundfont with AI.
Overall with The Fate Of All Life, Irreparable had a vision which was cool on paper but missed the mark in execution. There are a handful of good moments here but it suffers from lack of identity and focus. 4/10
Unmaker – Status Zero (Self Released) [Martin Brown]
Unmaker a band with plenty of ideas. On paper, the material is solid—thrash and groove metal welded to melodic phrasing. There are tight flashes of old-school intent—but in practice the production robs it of the impact it aims for, and in turn robs the band themselves of an amazing opportunity. The guitars sit far too forward and narrow. Heavy midrange congestion means there is no breathing space for the drums or bass. Kick and snare vanish under rhythm tracks that have been compressed into one flat wall, so every fast riff blurs into a single frequency band.
This is a Goth band experimenting with Black Metal. They are clearly fans of that world and have put in a bit of effort, the guitars at least show that but this is just cosplay. Again the drum machine just irritates me, it’s like going onto YouTube and hearing someone’s poor attempt at recreating any Type O Negative album using the Super Mario 64 soundfont with AI.
Overall with The Fate Of All Life, Irreparable had a vision which was cool on paper but missed the mark in execution. There are a handful of good moments here but it suffers from lack of identity and focus. 4/10
Unmaker – Status Zero (Self Released) [Martin Brown]
Unmaker a band with plenty of ideas. On paper, the material is solid—thrash and groove metal welded to melodic phrasing. There are tight flashes of old-school intent—but in practice the production robs it of the impact it aims for, and in turn robs the band themselves of an amazing opportunity. The guitars sit far too forward and narrow. Heavy midrange congestion means there is no breathing space for the drums or bass. Kick and snare vanish under rhythm tracks that have been compressed into one flat wall, so every fast riff blurs into a single frequency band.
On The Killing Fields and Head Of The Snake the tone should feel lethal, but instead it’s brittle, and sounds like box with a rubber band over it. Bass presence is minimal throughout the album. You feel the low end rather than hear it, and that takes away a lot of punch I'm looking to take. Vocals are recorded hot and dry, with little ambience or layering. They sit awkwardly on top of the mix instead of within it. There’s a good record underneath. Status Zero, Blood Oath and Katmuda show tight musicianship and some clever harmonic choices, but without proper depth or dynamic contrast they never explode the way they should.
The interlude Ghosts Of Home hints at atmosphere that the rest of the album never gets to explore because everything’s fighting for the same sonic space. God Defect closes things in a blur—strong riffs, decent structure, but still trapped in that over-compressed midrange chokehold. It’s frustrating, because the songwriting’s there and the performances are good. The problem is purely in the engineering: too much limiter, not enough air, no sense of scale. With a proper mix and master—wider stereo field, restored low-end weight, and some transient headroom—this could have been a serious statement. As it stands, Status Zero feels like a great demo buried under its own gain.
I won't be returning to it. 5/10
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