Thronum Vrondor – "Drowning in the Distorted Light" (Immortal Frost Productions, 2025)

In the cold heart of Belgium's black metal underground, a storm has been silently brewing. With "Drowning in the Distorted Light", Thronum Vrondor — a name that already breathes with ominous gravitas, erupts from the shadows with a record that is as atmospheric as it is ruthless, as melodic as it is punishing.

Released through the consistently impressive Immortal Frost Productions, this album marks a colossal leap in the band’s evolution. A trio whose roots trace back to the mid-2000s, Thronum Vrondor balance the icy fury of second-wave black metal with a sharpened modern sensibility, sculpting songs that are both expansive and immediate.

From the opening notes of “Between the Sane and the Insane,” the listener is hurled into a maelstrom of tremolo-picked riffs, thundering blast beats, and an enveloping wall of sound. The production is pristine yet raw, capturing the essential grit of the genre while allowing the compositional nuances to breathe. Vrondor's guitar work shines throughout, melodic lines rise like smoke from scorched earth, while rhythm sections carry the weight of a collapsing cathedral.

Vocally, SvN delivers a performance that is at once tortured and commanding, his screams echoing like the cries of a fallen prophet in a crumbling chapel. The lyrics, steeped in existential dread and introspective turmoil, add a cerebral edge to the otherwise primal force of the music.

Standout track “I am the Rain” is a masterclass in tension and release, melancholic leads snake through dissonant chords before erupting into crescendos of cathartic violence. It’s this dynamic interplay between atmosphere and aggression that gives the album its emotional heft and keeps the listener on edge from beginning to end.

There’s a philosophical weight to "Drowning in the Distorted Light". It feels like a descent into the soul’s darkest corridors, not for the sake of shock, but for the confrontation of truth. Thronum Vrondor don’t just play black metal; they channel it as a vehicle for expression, catharsis, and clarity.

In a scene where countless bands chase orthodoxy, "Drowning in the Distorted Light" stands as a reminder that darkness, when wielded with purpose, can illuminate. This is not just an album, it’s a reckoning. Best enjoyed under a grey sky, with your inner demons as company.

 

Antikvlt – "A Revelation of Intoxication" (Immortal Frost Productions, 2025)

Every once in a while, a debut release arrives that doesn’t just whisper of potential, it roars with fully formed identity. "A Revelation of Intoxication", the first full strike from Austrian black metal entity Antikvlt, is precisely that kind of statement. Released via Immortal Frost Productions, a label quickly becoming synonymous with high-caliber extremity, this record plunges headfirst into the abyss with a swagger that suggests seasoned veterans rather than a band just beginning to carve their path.

From the opening salvos, Antikvlt wastes no time establishing their sound: blistering yet dynamic, steeped in the traditions of second-wave black metal but sharpened with a venomous, personal edge. The riffs are virulent, serpentine, thrashing, and soaked in bitterness, while the rhythm section lurches between furious assaults and doom-laden stomps with frightening precision.

Vocally, the performance is nothing short of possessed. With a delivery that ranges from manic howls to cavernous proclamations, the frontman conjures a sense of spiritual violence, an ecstatic descent into madness. There’s a ritualistic intensity coursing through every track, as if each song is an offering to something ancient and wrathful.

The production walks a razor's edge: raw enough to retain grit and menace, but clear enough to let every layer bleed through. Melodic undercurrents rise beneath the chaos, hinting at despair, longing, even transcendence, without ever dulling the blade.

Tracks like “The Doctrine of the Poison Chalice” and “Drunk on Serpent Wisdom” stand out as moments of pure blackened Theatre, theatrical in their grandeur, yet grounded in absolute sonic cruelty. There’s a Dionysian spirit at the core of "A Revelation of Intoxication": one that embraces both destruction and enlightenment, intoxication and clarity.

What truly sets Antikvlt apart is their unflinching confidence. This debut doesn’t feel tentative or imitative, it feels necessary. The band plays like they’ve already stared into the void and made peace with what stared back.

With "A Revelation of Intoxication", Antikvlt don’t just enter the black metal conversation, they kick the door off its hinges. This is a debut soaked in blood, bile, and vision. One can only imagine what horrors, and triumphs, lie ahead. Raise the chalice, and let the revelation consume you.

Myrkvid – "Nihilist" (Immortal Frost Productions, 2025)

From the scorched philosophical landscapes of France’s underground comes Nihilist, the latest chapter in the bleak and unforgiving legacy of Myrkvid. Released through the ever-reliable Immortal Frost Productions, this album is a feral, meditative spiral into cosmic futility, a record that balances traditional black metal fury with a sharpened existential edge.

Myrkvid isn’t new to this war. With prior releases already earning respect in discerning circles, Nihilist feels like a crystallization of the band’s vision, more focused, more violent, and somehow even more void-facing. This is black metal that doesn’t seek mysticism or fantasy; instead, it aims straight for the jugular of meaning itself.

The guitar work on Nihilist is suffocating in its relentless Ness, waves of tremolo-picked despair crashing endlessly against bleak rhythmic undercurrents. There’s an almost mechanical precision to the drumming, yet it never feels sterile. Instead, it carries the momentum of a death march: cold, efficient, inevitable.

Vocally, Myrkvid delivers a performance steeped in disdain. The rasp is ferocious, drenched in contempt for all things sacred. Lyrically, the album plunges deep into the void, confronting nihilism not as an abstract posture, but as a lived-in, suffocating reality. Tracks like “The Hollow Light of Reason” and “Becoming Absence” drip with philosophical venom, where every scream feels like a manifesto etched in ash.

The production hits the perfect balance, raw and authentic, yet sculpted enough to allow the album’s dense layers to cut through. Subtle dissonances, bleak harmonies, and the occasional haunting ambient passage elevate Nihilist into more than just another black metal record, it’s a fully formed descent into metaphysical ruin.

What’s most impressive is the coherence of Myrkvid’s vision. There’s no pretense here, no gimmicks, just a ruthless, unflinching exploration of meaninglessness, rendered in sonic fire. Nihilist doesn’t ask for belief. It doesn’t offer answers. It simply opens the void and dares you to stare. For those who seek catharsis in collapse and find beauty in the black.

 

Cryfemal – "Puro Carbón" (Immortal Frost Productions, 2025)

There are black metal records that smoulder, and then there are those that burn. "Puro Carbón", the latest infernal discharge from the Canary Islands' Cryfemal, does both. Released in 2025 via Immortal Frost Productions, this album is a violent, unfiltered exhalation of rage and filth. It's raw, stripped to the bone, and utterly relentless, the sonic equivalent of being buried alive in burning coal.

Cryfemal has never been a project concerned with polish or mass appeal. Led by the unholy singular force of Ebola, the band has built a reputation over two decades for channeling pure misanthropy into its sound. "Puro Carbón" is no exception, in fact, it may be one of Cryfemal’s most vicious and focused releases to date.

From the opening blast, the album radiates hatred. The riffs are jagged and repetitive in a hypnotic, trance-inducing way, like a ritual being conducted in the ruins of civilization. Ebola’s vocals are inhuman: feral shrieks, guttural roars, and distorted howls that sound less like lyrics and more like curses hurled into a void.

The production is gloriously raw, not lo-fi for aesthetic’s sake, but because the music demands it. There's no gloss here. Every hiss, every crackle, every screech of feedback feels intentional, as if the record itself is decaying in real-time. It’s a toxic atmosphere that doesn’t just accompany the music; it is the music.

Standouts like “Sangre sobre el Carbón” and “Fuego Negro” are declarations of sonic war, primal, punishing, and filled with an almost punk-like immediacy. There’s a certain martial rigidity in the drumming, but it’s always on the verge of collapse, giving the record a chaotic momentum that feels one spark away from complete implosion.

What makes "Puro Carbón" so compelling is its purity of vision. Cryfemal doesn’t care what anyone expects from black metal. It doesn’t care about trends, nostalgia, or evolution. It is ugly. It is hateful. It is alive. And in a scene often bloated with artifice, that kind of raw honesty hits like a hammer to the chest. Not for the faint of heart, but for those who still believe black metal should wound, "Puro Carbón" is sacred fire.