Boarhammer: III: Instruments of Fungal Intent
Out 31st October, self-released
Germany’s Boarhammer continue their journey into classically eccentric black metal. The sound remains unmistakably their own (a rare thing in this day and age), paradoxically derived from dipping their toes into an eclectic assemblage of brews. True to their foraging subject matter, one that explores the use of wood, mushrooms, and herbs in ritual magic, this is an earthy, organic, roughhewn metallic foliage drawn from a lineage stretching as far back as the 70s, with germinal metal sitting alongside classic punk and rock ‘n’ roll, the finer details drawn from the dank revelry of Central and Southern European black metal in Root, Master’s Hammer, or Mortuary Drape.
This is the third entry in Boarhammer’s series on the use of organic materials in occult magic. The debut EP ‘I: Cutting Wood for Magickal Purposes’ being the most typically black metal entry. The debut album, 2024’s ‘II: Chemognosis – A Shortcut to Mushrooms’ was far more diffuse picture, explicitly marrying narrative classic rock with a coarse theatricality drawn from a certain strain of European black metal. Here we see Boarhammer reach a level of maturity as they expand on both these impulses, elaborating on the broad range of potentials within their stylistic palette. ‘III: Instruments of Fungal Intent’ is a darker album than its predecessor, but this doesn’t necessarily make it a more obviously black metal experience. Structurally it behaves like a pre-80s classic metal album in its freely shifting focus from one instrument to another. But atmospherically, Boarhammer take us to darker places. The tension is heightened, ditto the dramatic stakes, the atmosphere burrows deeper whilst the frantic bursts into chaotic activity are all the more urgent.
The production is hewn from the raw traditions of the 70s. The guitars, whilst distorted, retain a biting, jangle effect that wouldn’t be out of place in surf rock. This allows for riffs to play out in distinct layers simultaneously, the topography of the chord sequence lying beneath a sharp, declarative delivery that hammers home a sense of significance, of occasion, within each sequence. Drums are dominant in the mix. Although often content to anchor us with simple backbeats, they adopt a more active role in framing the guitar parts, matching the riffs or providing counterpoint as if to introduce additional characters within the ceremony.
It serves the listener well to treat this as more of a jam album than the highly composed approach to black metal they may be used to. The interaction between guitar and drums is two way, a living, breathing exchange of riffs and mischievous licks which force the rhythm section into responding with a looser approach, allowing beats to swing and flow, techniques all but forgotten in the majority of metal. The gruff, barked vocals narrate their way through intoxicating ceremonies, often engaged in a call and response with the instruments as they soundtrack the central drama.
Boarhammer draw on older rock traditions from the 60s and 70s to convey this. Whilst each piece pivots around a central theme, they are open and informal, with different instruments coming to the fore at different times. The music often opens out into extended bridges, allowing bass and drums to breathe and create tension in the absence of a fraught barrage of guitar dialogue. The result feels improvised, a group of musicians thrashing out ideas in response to a live ritual, characters, moods, and themes emerge and re-emerge, with different elements inhabiting the lead role at different times, picking up similar refrains and tracking them in new directions. This gives the music more of a celebratory feel, a sense of occasion befitting of the ritual magic subject matter.
Deathwards: Realms of Sin
Out 30th October on Sepulchral Voice Records
Chaotic, rustic death/thrash achieves a flexibly grandiose darkness over and above the raw physicality of the central riffs and assertive rhythm section. Reminiscent of Finland’s Foreseen in the pronounced hardcore punk influence, but here this is digested into a kaleidoscope of suggestive gothic touches, the melodrama inherent to the metallic self. Despite the relative simplicity and brevity of the tracks, each one feels like a developed sound world, exploding out basic thrash runs into interesting tangents, aided by the ever shifting foundations of tempo switches and rhythmic emphasis, which complicates this otherwise efficiently basic material. Vocals retain a hint of humanity behind the distorted bark, not so much clean melodies but the cadence of speech, bringing a sense of declarative urgency to the material even when the pace is slowed to allow for more expansive, labyrinthine songwriting. Despite the explicitly retroist orientation of this music, it feels surprisingly fresh and substantive beyond the aesthetic dog whistles; there is real meat on these bones.
Mists: Summoning Eternity
Out 2nd November on Amor Fati
Glum, sparse, cathartic black metal manages to weave elongated melodic lines over several paragraphs whilst still retaining some coherence. What it lacks in emotional range it makes up for in the slick internal consistency of the composition, with each idea developing on the last whilst remaining contiguous with it, even if the mood remains largely static throughout. A backdrop of drab, tremolo chord progressions and near constant blast-beats is then overlaid with simple harmonic lead material, and a lavish helping of clean, jangly arpeggios as if to highlight the inherent fragility of the material. Whilst it embodies all the same shortcomings of emotionally vulnerable black metal, namely a monoculture of thematic stasis, ‘Summoning Eternity’ carries enough engaging musical statements to make it at least worth considering, and indeed, the histrionic elements are only ever hinted at when compared to many of Mists’ contemporaries, the vocals being fairly run of the mill black metal fair and the emotional topography generally flat and fixed in place.
Adversor: This Mortal Coil
Out 6th November on Selvajaria Records
Without exactly breaking any barriers, Adversor find a way to reinvigorate a form of slick modern thrash which at least seems to engage with the preoccupations of the 2020s. To put it another way, the music is still largely derived from old school thrash, but the arrangement, performance, and presentation all feel contemporary, “of” the now. Nods to a more progressive, futurist vision are sprinkled throughout, much of the bass work leans into technical thrash elements, not least on the interlude piece ‘2066’. But this is juxtaposed with the oftentimes blunt simplicity of the rhythm guitars, which largely stick with basic thrash offcuts or open, anthemic chord runs lifted from earlier heavy metal. Oddball tonal play collides with highly intuitive and traditional melodic material, but the end result looks remarkably well formed. There is a unity behind the approach taken by Adversor here, digesting different elements from across the thrash and heavy metal oeuvre into a clear and coherent statement. Accessible, polished, derivative in places, but an engaging and creative use of these well worn raw materials regardless.
Virologist: Subjugation of the Anthropoid
Out 13th November on New Standard Elite
Relentless brutal death metal leans into the subgenre’s tendency toward uniformity, an exponentially growing hive of activity leaving nothing but a monoculture in its place. The none stop guttural vocals ride atop waves of noise defined not so much by riffs as by tempo, the occasional pinch harmonic or shift in rhythmic emphasis the primary means of navigating this material. Breakdowns and drops in tempo to establish a groove are rife, but none last more than a few measures before the next burst of speed or decaying rhythm. Unlike more polished iterations of brutal death metal, there is joy to be taken in the utter incoherence of the material as it leans into disorientation, leaping from ideas with apparently little reason. But the music connects up with itself, there is logic behind the lurches, and an oddly frantic obsessiveness to how Virologist interrogate each idea before promptly disposing of it in favour of the next barrage of noise. Fluid, organic, murky, its joys are highly specific but compelling regardless.
Satanic Warmaster: Drachenkreuz
Out 13th November on Werewolf
Satanic Warmaster continue to fulfil their comfort blanket role within black metal with this latest offering, finding the right balance between flowery melodies, frigid blasting riffs, and some older Bathory derived refrains to anchor the music with a semblance of muscular DIY energy. Thematically, lyrically, aesthetically this could have been the product of market research conducted within the core demographic of black metal fandom. But there is a reason this artist has endured over and above so many of their peers. Werwolf may be an unoriginal mind in the black metal oeuvre, but much like Judas Iscariot, Taake, or Nargaroth, for all their hits and misses these artists manage to rise above their highly generic raw materials. Unlike empty pastiche or unadulterated ripoffs, Satanic Warmaster are conversant in the language of black metal, treating it as a folk resource through which to wield a diversity of tales, build any number of worlds that embody their own unique charm and allure. It’s the difference between true slock cinema and Asylum film Sharknado dross. One is comforting precisely because it has a degree of thought and artistry behind, the other, for its all attempts to ingratiate itself to our wants and needs, leaves us cold for its lack of depth and humanity.
NervoChaos: Chaosmongers
Out 13th November on Black Lion Records
Dull death/thrash gets by on a semblance of determined persistence. The flat, repetitive riffing beginning to look like an artistic statement in its own right as monotony compounds on itself. For all the simplicity of the material, with little in the way of compensation offered to the listener, there is something compelling about how doggedly NervoChaos stick to their guns here. Tracks reliably oscillate between two or three basic ideas, making them easy to follow even on first listen for anyone well versed in old school death/thrash. But the approach is so generalised that it feels more like a celebration of a style, almost inviting us to view its reliability as a welcome virtue. In some sense it is. There is nothing particularly lacking in ‘Chaosmongers’ aside from originality. And tunnelling through the album’s clearly marked terrain is certainly an enjoyable experience. The riffs, despite their barebones consistency, are engaging, the structures, despite its predictability, remain competently strung together. For an artist of NervoChaos’s vintage, maybe that’s more than we could have hoped for in 2026.
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