A Metal Map from a Punk Perspective




Thanks to sin—sheer musical gluttony, The Mad Mane Machine’ll proceed with this bitchin’, rash, Metal hairsplitting.

The focus is Punk as the root genre. So punk rockers unite! there’s a lot to hold together. It however, is not a showcase of how many sub/genres can be mashed together or be spawned/related to a given genre, but rather how they can cohesively flow beyond two commingles. Neither is this an influence chart— though it incorporates such where befitting or possible. It’s all for kicks, primarily.



As much as quotes have become relegated to people who couldn’t be better than adage regurgitators by a mantra’s length; it is Einstein’s (massively paraphrased)—imagination floors knowledge on any given day—that charges my view of Draco Hypnalis’s album. Wouldn’t be much of a stretch to figure how the above mindless perpetrators fare in regard to this aphorism. With the right means of expression, the saying stands, true and solid, as a case in point, Neuromancer—inspired more by thoughtful prediction than thorough tech know-how (and yes, I haven’t read the book).

The furthest of the Metal spectrum shines with touches of uncommonality—album title applying from start to stop, with implication that annuls most of Progressive Death Metal. Not to pass it as riddled with similars, but it sure does emphasiize a lot on forefront guitar work. Draco differs by application of baance, and magnificent Neo-Classical keyboard prominence. Even with its tendencies to lean on Black Metal repository, the keys have perspective—no musical overshadowing (many symphonic bands? check), or unnecessary passages (unmemorable intros/pastludes etc. ? check). Neither should it proceed without a need for expansion. Accruing from a pleasure of leisure, listening and its reward. The intricate and captivating melodies are unmatched.

Being yet to come across cohesive Neo-Classical that sucks, some is much easily ingrained—less implying Drang is an effortless project—while Draco refines with re-runs that clock on the multiple.The Sincere Wander Through Illusion Untouched is a slight shimmering of non complacency resonating with the now defunct Abyssaria, seamlessly running down to track 04—Yet They Come and Leave No Distress—where a touch of Demonic Resurrection kicks in with a pressing prominence. Each instrument biding its time by ultimate prejudice to distinct melodic association; a strange symphony on first play but a sure aeddictive and moreso inspiring grower. Times are when the haunting tunes convey the need for a singer, espousing a what if? picture of someone like Rhapsody of Fire‘s Giacomo just breathing golden. Imagination‘s beauty is that it still works well with mostly non-vox parts though the growls could have been more. And when was the last time a band’s track titles said much than others’ lyrical expanse?

An almost ultra-progressive record that wastes no time in either showmanship and indulgence or catering for low common denominator urges. Symphony in E – Minor—and most of the tracks’ parts—pours its soft, lush templates to what is currently played as Djent, gleaming into Sithu Aye from a likely to be overlooked distance. Key fluctuations at times work conveniently conspicuously like drama, forget not hard to ignore blast beats.



For Draco Hypnalis, assemblage would be a replicate for knowledge. Classical training with nought diversion or musical practicality procreates redundant technicality. Progressive Death Metal does ofgfer an ensnaring opportunity to promulgate such. Draco magically straddles two fields providing a chance to be musically elitist, with total disregard. Much respect to the trio for rising above such triviality (and neither compromising), as the less imaginative would be wont to do. Fucking bliss.


The warm radiance that is Illuminance shines its blissful intersection in a transmogrifying brilliant resplendence. From the way the Mad Mane Machine has been seeing technically inclined Death Metal bands lean towards glowing/bizarrely gleaming covers has been off-puttingit really recalls every quasi-Djent/Deathcore aims at being super proggy and/or transcendent or something in that line. As a downside, Illuminance jumbled with such releases, barely labeled as progressive stands a huge disadvantage of being overlooked.

An instance of unrepentant dissociation—by indiscriminately indulging overflowing, yet insane progressive Death Metal is what I’d term Illuminance. Solid songwriting, awe-striking musicianship, discipline in instrument handling—or a failure to let dexterity drive urgent points home. Outlasting an experience as this makes Virvum‘s efforts more effective and the album something to really dig into—without demanding one to  wrap around its contents. Which really is a shame, as one tries figuring out why—though not present here—a bassist as Nikola Somborski would go ahead to form a band as mediocre as Cordyceps. Fitting of every Slam stereotype, and then some . . . fun? Saddening.

Asserting to say the high stature that is maintained here, right off the bat, down to the epic closure. Sonically suggestive to create (non queer) uplifting an atmosphere—one that could be enhanced to stimulate creative activities that stretch imagination; painting et. al. The mighty The Cypher Supreme has incredibly catchy leads which floors by clicks of considerable beauty. Even from first listen, it is a stand out that out-listening such craft’s nary a point of regard. A jutting that foretells Virvum are not heady for an all-drawn-out orientation to the jugular. An album I’d vouch fro as a solid progressive Death Metal representative—heck, a testament to why progressive DM is better than technical DM, and more-so on instrumentally articulate progressive DM. Not to state that non technical Progressive DM is a paler strain, but it’s less amusing trying to come around intense song assemblies competing with hooking tech death full of riffs not as impressive as on previous listen.

The tantalizing excellence conveyed is a constant, peaking with II: A Final Warming Shine: Ascension and Trespassing. Matter-of-factly the most appealing track appears to be the first—also containing one of some of the heaviest parts of the album, right at the track’s end. Another heavy traction aids purge the title to iron melting magnitude. Drummer Diego Morenzoni is on a rhythmic urge to complete the snare catastrophe with a gushing speed. Nothing haphazardly spasmodic like Brain Drill, who demand intense follow-up to discern—even recall—their sound structure. This is an almost faultless release and it’s sudden impressiveness on first listen fails to fade away. Aiming for that is only a formula to cater for an ADD audience. I’m willing to believe Virvum are above such—for clarity, it is not only hooks that make music something to recall, with neither of that here—although this album could sit on a couple shelves, gateway progressive DM being one. Which is completely assailed as a compliment.


 From what the Mad Mane Machine has gathered, Musrum is a highly valued cult book. Considerately, that can be an apex for wrapping up book blogging—especially when a sought after style is nowhere to be found, few entries later. It would be doing the book much worse than good. Shit.
  Schizophrenic and experimental writing—these have managed to be checked before. Musrum ticks the weird-and-phenomenal-without-even-trying box. Reinstating all belying preconceptions towards meaninglessness, implied meanderings, and conclusive misconceptions. The existential world of Musrum. It may convince it is the opposite of a mind trip, yet its realization is an inimitable directory of how not to impose anything. As a rule, it just is—minus mere existence.
  For one, Musrum is a stretcher upon its course. There is a set of images eloquently re-arranged to match the written counterpart of its deranged and determined stylistic humour. The amount of logo creations up-fronts the number of word creations. Many of them recall to the Metal genre; where funly, they were related—as follows—to various sub-genres to an almost astounding precision.

Cover (07) — Death Metal. Very Morbid Angel distortions

COLUMBUS … (09) — Occult Doom Metal/any tribal variation. Woodcraft and symbology

THE ATTIC (15) — Stoner (Doom). Thick text in the vein of Sleep

THE IRON CASTLE (19) — Progressive Metal. Sharp/defined symmetry (far from Thrash’s)

THE EXPLORATION OF THE WORLD (32) — Atmospheric Sludge Metal. Coastline/Island indenting . . . since Pirate Metal is not really a genre. . . .

THE WEEDKING’S PLOT (37) — Raw/Atmospheric Black Metal. Fucking Groot

THE PURSUIT BEGINS (41) — Post-Metal. Cresting with wavelines/rendering to softness

IN ODESSA (52) — Avant Garde Metal. A funny ‘mess’ of objects living and non-living


MUSRUM’S PLAN TO UTILIZE THE INDUSTRIAL SUBURBS OF THE ESTATE AS AN ARSENAL (69) — Brutal Death Metal heavy on Hardcore/Sludge Metal. Not very stylized, solid font. (Borderline Grindcore)

WHEEL-LORE (72) — Speed Metal. Thrash-like precision meets arrows

THE TREE TELEGRAPH (80) — Depressive Suicidal Black Metal. Trees; Pines in particular

PRINCIPLES OF FLOWERLIGHT (82) — European Power Metal. (Sun)Flower power

THE ELDER TREE (93) — Grindcore. Nasum spikiness with talons. Sweet perfection

PREPARATION AT THE CAMP (97) — Industrial Metal. Wtf  moment as human limbs spell it out

THE ISLE THROUGH THE WOODS (104) — Experimental Dark Metal. Which really is  Industrial Black Metal

THE MUD CASTLE (107) — (Progressive) Groove Metal. Ahem! Toning down/up from (19). The whole logo realized anew as a block

Unnamed (109) — Duckcore. Thank you so much Metal Duck. This would be limbo

THE IMITATION GARDEN (112) — Drone Metal. Beating dunes eaten by time? Fascinating arrangement

FEAR, AFFLICTION – AND STRANGE HOPE (124) — Technical Death Metal. A die; no cast—Hexahedron with impressions/layers

SPOILS OF WAR (129) — Experimental? taken. Avant garde? taken. How do genres start? Not cheating here . . . Boris belongs somewhere?

THE TRIUMPHANT RETURN TO INTERSOL (133) — (Viking) Folk Metal. Through a rugged mapping and sea-faring arises the the nation (and title)

SECOND MOVEMENT: BELLA: LA DAME GENOVESE (134) — Love Metal (hark!). Arrow-shots to the hearts of sentimentalization

THIRD MOVEMENT: ALLEGRO (136) — That Byzantine Metal should be a thing? All above (134), in mosaic detail. Also deduct arrow. Right, Batushka exists

THE WEEDKING’S PLIGHT (151) — Crust loving Powerviolent Grind. Sells itself as Botanical Metal. Caterpillar’s legs espouse the whole disappointing irony

THE WEEDKING’S FATE (155) — This sadly goes to Technical Brutal Death Metal. Fucking tech death heads horse-shitting the genre in alarming retardedness


 The way of the cenotaph. When viewing older DM band pictures, rampant graveyard shots pop up. In an effort to capture the spirit of the dead shift, below are monoliths of unhallowed spontaneity—kicking off with the most ghastly looking. Grey Mist delivers unhinged Doom, albeit touching on that aspect as Alunah extends on their most doomy—female vocals galloping too. Not far from where the Doom bands illustriously depict gargoyles and burial grounds sculpts. Wolf Dawn—the oddball here, is unrelenting blackened Speed Metal; which is enough to imply major ass kicking. Die already. . . .

Misty Grey



  The ouroboros is an enticing concept—ensnaring musicians and artists as a means of expression—metaphorically or ironically. Over-exposure’s desensitization make end-users and targets almost immune to a reaction—especially this being the creator’s point of concern. That is the much that can happen between 2005 and now, when the blueprint of Of Worlds, Endtimely Enshadowed was realized and articulated. Furthermore, the chained self-devouring snake portrays a continuum in stasis, something of a disheveling reality, accounting for self-begetting.
  Signist is an unforgettable name, incredibly significant where there are myriad bands left, right, and center. From Russia with pluck purpose to pulverize and perpetuate perdition to the rest of the (Metal) world. Largely cast on a Thrash Metal motif that stretches to Heavy Metal and barbaric Deathy Thrash—progressions and changes abound on a lot of the songs. Influences are worn aggressively such as a slight Punk pummeling—on track six, technicality, and portional synth flourished atmosphere. Interestingly, it is the rhythm that channels the solos. Premonition of the Endless Night‘s placement was tactful. Other than splitting it into a short intro or insertion of one, the behemoth of cudgeling grooves is allowed to mature into a flounce, the first of a tenacious whirlgig—the kind that Wrust lashes unrepentantly—on an intracion of melodic rhythms which culminate into a Blackened lead, accompanied by blast beats. Played at a Spazmosity Blackened Death range. An acoustic shed follows, making up for the onslaught taking the listener off the nook at the start without warning.

  Stillborn Mind Reflection perpetuates a blackened infusion while track three revives the catchy, contoured and uncompromisingly conking grooves by the advent of Heavy Metal accompaniment. It wouldn’t be surprising how much the guitars take center space, especially on this song. Only the ‘spongy’ cymbals—unluckily quite consistent once or twice—are its downside, including on Bells of Oncoming Winter, the longest and felicitously changing track. There is some featured singing as the album unravels while addition of a synthesized keyboard wells a Darkified feelwith some Post-Thrash occupations. 

  As marginalizing as their logo is—a Pagan/Viking oriented band?—any Power/Thrash cacophony?—it certainly is a pointer to the listener to heed expecting anything—especially to be blown away. With melodies that are almost epically inclined; progressive tincture and bent, its omnipotence forays the floridness abound in a gradual manner—a propitious sculpt on Thrash Metal’s mould. A progressive Thrash Metal stomp where Lieveil meets Wrust.