2021 TOP 100 ALBUMS

Let’s start with a bang, or more accurately let’s start with some hyperactive sugar-rush inducing europop pizazz. Beast in Black sound like a Latvian entry into Eurovision. It’s big on choruses, big on cliché and big on synth hooks. The whole Abba does Metal approach works here because it has the strength in song-writing. Tracks like ‘Moonlight rendezvous’ and ‘Dark New Worlds’ eloquently combine bouncy commerciality with Rock’s outsider attitude. It may be ludicrous in many many places, but it avoids becoming a parody of itself by being overall oodles and oodles of fun.

Anthemic Black Metal of the highest order. The down-tuned guitars and goblin-esque vocals of Black Metal are wrapped in swirls of beautifully realised symphonic beauty. The album really works because of its stark contrasts. The Black Metal is not tempered or dialled down. It is coarse, corrosive and maintains its demonic intensity. However, the atmospheric element are equally stirring and evocative, but very much the other way. There is a wonderful juxtaposition between splendour and abrasion, as the vocals shift from gruff to clean and the classical waves engulf the harsh guitars. Cinematic, ethereal and utterly immersive.

Haunting and alluring post-Black Metal from Nottingham. “Our Bodies Burnt Bright On Re-entry” is all about the contradictions and contrasts. There are moments where it sounds like hell itself is ripping opening and the armies of Satan are spilling fourth, but it knows exactly when to recoil and retreat back into fragile introspective instrumental passages. It is its rich mix of primal noise blended with delicate beauty that gives this album so much depth and texture.

With a name like that, you aren’t going to be quaint indie fodder, are you? This album bridges the gap between technical and old skool Death Metal. It retains the virtuoso guitar gymnastics of the former, but combines it with the grit and grime of the latter. It is a harsh unrelenting album, but it manages to have moments where the light comes in and it is those brief overtures of salvation that makes it so good. It is a perfect amalgamation of outstanding riff wizardry and guttural emotive rawness.

One of modern Metal’s most inventive and musically curious bands. They have not been content to sit back and churn out the same album again and again. Each release has seen them further stretch the boundaries that they operate within and attempt to continually confound the listener. “De Doom” is yet another cosmic shift in style and approach. It initially doesn’t sound that difference from their previous six Mass albums (imaginatively titled Mass I to Mass VI). However this album breaks from tradition and is sung in Flemish. There are still the same almighty surges of brittle noise, but they are less frequent and therefore the build up to them is longer and more refined. What this means is when they do arrive, they have much more potency and effect. A wonderful whirlpool of jagged sonics and reflective segments.

First full studio album in eight years for the French sonic experimentalists. It consists of five entwinning tracks that just build and build. This is layers of euphoric sound that drags the listener into a netherworld that feels both familiar but also simultaneously bewildering. Sometimes this type of stuff lacks warmth and sincerity, but this works because it does feel organic and natural. This is not just sonic assault for the sake of sonic assault. Instead, it beautifully and intricately develops over the course of the entire record, like an exquisite flower revealing itself before your very eyes.

When axe-master supremo Michael Schenker asked Robin McAuley to become the lead singer of his self-titled band, he was sick and tired of prima donnas and hired hands. Robin McAuley was neither. A down to earth Irishman with a strong work ethic, he had no truck with rock n’ rolls excess. He and Michael hit it off big time, to the point that they renamed themselves the McAuley Schenker group to acknowledged Robin’s heightened role in the band’s direction. He remained with MSG until 1993, which is far longer than other vocalists that Michael had worked with and only actually left in order to marry and retire from Music.

Since he hung up his gloves, he has popped up every now and again, most recently as part of Michael’s expensive career retrospective Schenker Fest. And here he is again with his first solo record in twenty-two years. I have always loved his voice. It manages to be simultaneously bluesy and raw but also smooth and alluring. This is essentially a great eighties adult oriented Rock album. I loved it for what it is as it does not pretend to be anything else than a collection of great sing along tracks.

There is something fresh and vibrant about this record. There is a rampant joyfulness at play here and it is brim-full of a youthful exuberance that is really rather infectious. It has a bounce about it that means you can’t help but being swept in its multi-colour hyperactive. There is probably not that much new here and it owes a lot to both Enter Shikari and Ghost Inside (and that is before you start on the inevitable Paramore comparisons). But in the end its energy and rampant vitality means that you overlook its many short comings.

Mono consistently confound expectation. Every record they release I think is the last word in dynamic soundscapes and then then they come back two years and once more up the game. This is certainly the case here. “Pilgrimage of the Soul” is everything you expect from Mono, but more. More cinematic, more ambiance and much more euphoric cascades. They are peerless at what they do, and this is yet another exhilarating ride through delicate valleys and grandiose peaks that leaves you at the end breathless but desperate to go through it all again.

We often talk of Europe as being the fertile ground for Power Metal, but Witherfall are part of fine tradition of stateside acts that have embraced the synth, the power-fist and the gigantic chorus. In fact, the dynamic duo behind Witherfall (Joseph Michael and Jake Dreyer) are a veritable who’s who of American Power Metal. Jake (as well as fleetingly Joseph) was in White Wizard and until recently he played guitar in Iced Earth (only parting ways with them when Jon Schaffer decided to go off and storm the capitol building). Meanwhile, Joseph has had the unenviable task of replacing the late, great Warrel Dane in Sanctuary.

“Curse Autumn” is windswept, anthemic but also surprisingly restrained. It has the massive surges of majestic synths, and it has searing power chords, but it also has delicate refined moments where everything is dialled down (usually a cardinal sin in Power Metal). It is those understated acoustic driven moments (specifically in ‘The Tempest’, ‘The River’ and the title track) that lift this record out of the ordinary.

Metal does indeed go to the places where other genres do not dare (probably folk aside). You would never get a country, or a Hip-Hop album focused on the first world war, but here we are with yet another Metal act deciding to build their whole sound and identity around the great war. This is bombastic blackened Metal with a massive nod towards Primordial and Behemoth. There is quite an inventive usage of brass, vintage audio and traditional songs of the time, and it is these elements that give “Where Fear and Weapons Meet” a real feel of authenticity. What could have come across as quite mawkish and exploitative actually ends up being reverential and respectful.

However it’s greatest moment is saved to the end. I usually find novelty pop covers at the end of metal albums at best unnecessary and at worst a cynical ploy to get noticed. Bucking the trend, 1914’s version of Green Fields of France is nothing short of extraordinary. It takes a reflective and sombre treaty on the futility of war and turns into a roaring chasm of indignant rage. By pumping it full of raw anger and spite, it radically alters the songs meaning without changing a single lyric. Now instead of lamenting the fallen, it screams in flagrant outrage and horror at the utter waste live and the very fact it was allowed to happen. A fitting conclusion to a stirring and evocative album.

The wonderful thing about Powerwolf is how aware they are of how ridiculous they are. This is pure theatrical escapism; big, bold and flamboyant. Every track here is OTT with the emphasis on the O, T and T. It isn’t subtle and to be honest it is not going to win any prizes for intricateness, but the heart on the sleeves kitchen sink approach works because of the band’s conviction and authenticity. All the way through “Call of the Wild” you are left in no doubt that the band are having as much fun as the listener. It may well be ludicrous and absurd, but it is also buckets full of unreserved fun and frankly sometimes that is all that matters.

Their 2019 debut also made my TOP 100 in more or less the same position. It was great but owed a great debt to Tool. Their sophomore release sees them widen their sphere of influences and also bring a grittier and more granular feel to their highly proficient prog. It is still highly stylised and technical, but it has a more organic and earthy feel this time around. It is also very very good.

Wolfsbane were one of a group of homegrown Metal and Hard Rock acts that emerged in the late eighties. They had a rampant energy to them and seemed to have a harder edge than their contemporaries. They were also bloody everywhere and there was a point where they seemed to be the support act on every tour I saw (Anthrax, Alice Cooper, Maiden and Motorhead all come to mind). They also had the auspicious honour of being the first UK act to be picked up by Rick Rubin’s Def American label and to have the man himself produce their debut album. All looked good but then grunge turned up, they were dropped after their second album tanked and then the call came from the aforementioned Maiden.

I started the story with Wolfsbane because no matter how great they were (and they were great), Blaze Bailey will be for most people the man that kept the seat warm whilst Bruce Dickinson went off and did other things. In all he recorded two albums with the British Metal juggernauts (one good “X-factor”, one dire “Virtual 11”) and then was unceremoniously booted out in 1999 when the great man wanted to return.

Subsequently he has reformed Wolfsbane (twice and there is rumours of an impending new album), played numerous “the Iron Maiden years” sets and also built a quite impressive solo career. For the last eight years he has worked with the Manchester band Absolva and for “The War Within Me” they once again form his backing band. This is a great sci-fi themed proper Metal album. It is epic and (occasionally) pompous but the production is so on point and it sounds utterly glorious. Blaze’s vocals are both raw and expansive and perfectly contemplate the expansive but also magnificently heavy musical accompaniment. Extraordinary return to form, if he needed one.

Named after the legendary Sleep album, Dope Smoker could not be anything else than a Stoner Metal act. They hail from costal South Wales, where there is apparently nothing to do but Surf and smoke dope. “Devil’s Bridge” is their second full album in as many years, and it actually has real character to it. Yes, it is absolutely packed full of slow brooding riffs, but it does not feel as identikit as you would expect. They have managed to stamp their own identity on a style that can sometimes feel quite samey. Overall I found the tracks more memorable than other examples of this and sometimes that is all you need.

Anneke is a Metal singer, has been in Metal bands (most significantly The Gathering) and works with Metal artists such as Amorphsis and Devin Townsend. However, this is very much not a Metal album. It was written as her marriage fell apart and is a melancholic and introspective treaty on the subject of divorce and loneliness. It is stark, emotively raw but also exquisitely beautiful. You can feel the hurt tumble out of her as she relates her attempts to save her relationship. Insular, haunting and effecting, it may stick out like a sore thumb on this list but it so deserves its place.

With the vast majority of records on here I know to a greater degree what to expect. I either am already familiar with the artist or at least the genre that they operate within, or I have been pointed their way by a friend or press coverage. This is one of those releases where I had no idea at all what to expect and therefore ended up pleasantly surprised. This is the third album from the St. Louis based trio, but their first to pass under my gaze. This feels like the score to a post-modern horror movie.

There is the eerie un-settling synths that you would find in a John Carpenter flick, then on top of that they have poured a vat of lumpy sludge metal. Rather than leave it at that, they have then added a sheen of catchy alt-metal choruses. The whole thing feels unsettling and creepy, but like the best horror movies it is also incredibly intoxicating, and its disconcerting nature drags you in. Whilst familiar in places it also feels unique and slightly twisted, like the axis of the world has shifted. One of the more “unique” records on this list.

Every so often I do think there is nothing else you can do and nowhere else you can go with Death Metal. And then a release like this comes along that broadens my horizon and reaffirms my belief that Death Metal still has decades of evolution left within it. This is an incredibly clever record that decides not to tie itself to the mast of one particular iteration or version of Death Metal, but instead to borrow liberally from nearly forty years of re-invention and re-generation. The riffs are technic and concise but it also drags in the hall marks of the more progressive and melodic tendencies. By combining and blending so many of the avenues that Death Metal has wandered down over the decades, Beyond Grace have actually managed to move the genre forward.

Contemporaries of fellow countrymen Katatonia, Lake of Tears have sort of fallen by the wayside over the last fifteen years (this is their first album in ten years). Like Katatonia they were initially Paradise Lost fanboys but they have gone for a bit of magical mystery tour around Metal’s many sub-genres. Now down to just guitarist and vocalist Daniel Brennare, they have returned to the goth with a vengeance. This is a dark, brooding album that obviously comes from an unhappy place. However no matter how maudlin and morose it is lyrically, “Ominous” still manages to retain goth’s marvellous grandiosity and aural elaborateness. It just sounds wonderful, operatic and anthemic even though at heart it is as dark as the night itself.

Listening through I am realising that this is not a happy list and Hull’s Mastiff (self-proclaimed “miserable band from a miserable town”) are not going to help. This is one of those albums that starts as impenetrable noise (and I suspect for many of you will stay at impenetrable noise) and only starts to reveal its musical riches after a number of listens. There is actually lots and lots of texture and depth here but it does take its time to emerge. However if you do work with it, this is a highly inventive and incredibly rewarding record but don’t expect any sort of redemption. Mastiff have looked into the heart of humanity and found it be broken and decayed and this record captures that. It is dark, nihilistic and in many places unsettling. A magnificent pessimistic diatribe of the end of times.

Let’s tone it down for a moment and shift away from the unrelenting noise that has dominated the first twenty records on this list. This a delicate, warm and rather tender record. It is also full of hope (the clue is in the title) and optimism. Each song is laced with euphoria, but it is a restrained and almost apologetic euphoria. It is like they feel guilty for feeling happy and expect that happiness to be snatched from them at any given point. It’s prog but without the bombastity and it is that reserved rapture that makes this such an intriguing record.

In many ways the original “Colors” changed everything. It dragged prog metal away from the pomposity and technobabble of Dream Theatre and gave it weight and form. Between the Buried and Me are honest that on its release they were at a crossroad in terms of where their carrier would go and how they fitted into metal’s rich tapestry. They have badged their tenth studio album as a squeal to “Colors” as they feel they are at a similar junction in their professional lives.

What has changed is that they are no longer the plucky young bucks looking to upset the apple cart and reimagine prog metal. They are now elder statesmen and establishment figures within the genre, and it is they that are now looking nervously over their shoulders at the youngsters gaining ground on them. Whilst “Colors II” does not reinvent everything the way that its predecessor did, it does put a massive flag in the ground indicating that Between the Buried and Me are still a massive and relevant player in this particular sandbox.

It is a highly complex and dense record, that at times can feel bewildering and unfathomable. But that has always been the beauty and uniqueness of Between the Buried and Me. You never really know where their music is going second by second and disconcerting left turns into completely different sonic territories are now second nature. “Colors II” has all that and more. This time around we maybe expecting the sheer amount of stylistic shifts, but that does not deter from how powerful and disarming that are. Not essentially new, but still utterly exhilarating.

Ahh, Ghost Bath! The band that I love and that everyone else seems to hate. “Self Loather” is the final part of the “Moon Lover” trilogy and shares a lot of the same traits as the previous two records. The almost transcendental tremolo shaking guitar sounds, the delicate instrumental interludes and the blood-curdling screechers are all present and correct. It is the latter that tends to put people off Ghost bath, but for me it is their defining feature. I have said this a thousand times to a thousand deaf ears, but the screams are not there for a lyrical function, they are part of the dense instrumentation. They provide a contrast to the often-luscious segments and the euphoric crescendos of sound. They haven’t moved on as much as I would have liked (hence the relatively low placing compared to the other parts of trilogy) but it is still an utterly stunning record.

Lurking Fear are essentially an At The Gates side project (they share three of the same members) but that is very much where the familiarity. Whereas At The Gates embrace the melodic (and increasingly progressive) side of Death Metal, Lurking Fear wallows in its darker murkier waters. Never actually has a record title been truer, as “Death, Madness, Horror, Decay” not only deals with these subject matters but it also manages to aurally personify them.

This is harsh and abrasive record, unforgiving and unrepentant. At times it is like wadding through primordial ooze; thick, disconcerting and really rather nasty. The enjoyment of this album is similar to what is gained from a particularly disturbing horror movie. It forces you out of your comfort zone and into the unfamiliar. Not easy listening in any shape or form, but still an engaging and entrancing experience.

I am not sure whether it a minor miracle that a band this far off grid can be so popular or whether it is the start of a whole new business model for how bands finance themselves. Certainly, there is a question mark about whether While She Sleeps could have achieved the level of self-sustainability that they have, without an existing fervent fanbase.

However, let us not take anything away from what Sleeps have achieved. Every element of this album’s creation, every element of this album’s recording and every element of this album’s distribution has been bank-rolled by their fans. There is no record label involvement and no management team, everything is done by the band and paid for (via Pateron) by their supporters. They even used their road crew to physically distribute the record, which inadvertently meant that it could not chart (as they did not utilise an accredited distributor). While She Sleeps are cottage industry reinvented for the 21st century.

But no matter how worthy the approach is, it means zip if the product isn’t any good. Thankfully “Sleeps Society” is yet another triumph. It treads a fine line between aggression and euphoria. Its tracks are up-tempo and optimistic, but still manage to retain a jagged edge. They have masterfully managed to keep metal’s muscle whilst at the same time ditching the hostility and belligerence. Positivism never sound so powerful and persuasive.

Self-described depressive Black Metal from Norfolk. This is a one-person endeavour (known to his gran as Nre) and they have forged a nihilistic and highly atmospheric record that wears its blackened charred heart on its sleeve. This is Black Metal slowed and toned down. Its malevolent evil now comes from its trance like waves of deeply melancholic sound that drift like a dense toxic folk out of the speakers. This is a bitter and unnerving record that gnaws at your soul. Dark, sombre and thoroughly miserable. I really rather liked it.

Voices are what Akercocke did next. Now that the Black prog giants are back in town Voices decided to take a sideway shift into dark eighties electro and 2018’s terrific “Frightened” was devoid of any metal all together. “Breaking the Trauma Bond” sees them take a very bold blended approach. There certainly is metal here and Peter Benjamin’s curdling death screams are very much back, but there are also other elements at play here.

There is very dark gothic segments and a large chunk of what I can only describe as Avent garde. Long running experimental industrialists Nurse with Wounds comes to mine. “Breaking the Trauma Bond” seems intent on not repeating itself track on track and instead insists on making a number of 90 degree turns that succeed in keeping the listeners attention. A surprising record that seems hell bent on defying the conventions of its genre.

I have never been a big one for either metalcore or post-hardcore. They both just seemed to exist so that there were bands for black clad teens to listen to before they discover the decent stuff. As usual I was wrong. This is a terrific record, emotional wrought and fuelled by vulnerability and (inevitably) loss. It is the sound of a band making music as a cathartic rite of package. They have not made this record for a shoe-horned audience, and they have not made this record to fit into a pre-designated demographic. They have made it to chronical a cycle of grief and to exorcise their personnel demons.

But don’t expect “Loss” to be bleak all the way through, it isn’t. It is actually a frequently uplifting redemption tale. It is full of rage and anguish but by letting it all flow out they are banishing their ghosts and regaining control of their lives. A highly emotive and exhausting album, one that isn’t afraid to show expose it weakness and instead turns that openness and honesty into a virtue. Harrowing but ultimately emancipating and liberating.

Melodic death Metal’s unsung heroes, this is their first album in eight years, and it is an utter barnstormer. It is prime melodic death metal, showcasing that wonderful collision of clean soaring riffs and gruff primal vocals. They seem to have used their time wisely, as every track feels well crafted and defined. The guitar work is divine and whilst it does not move the genre forward it shows how wonderful it can sound when done well.

Fourteen years ago, Robert Plant and country legend Alison Krauss confounded everyone by producing the most exquisite set of duets. It was a raw, personnel but also utterly divine record that saw these vocalists from different sides of tracks, combine to create something quite extraordinary. “Raising Sands” was a critical and commercial phenomenon and of course plans were quickly made to try and bottle lightening by getting them to recreate the magic. However as both artists are perfectionists, the sessions for a follow up were quickly abandoned as the spark was felt to have gone.

Fast forward to this year and without fanfare or ceremony a second collaborative effort between the two has slipped out under the radar. “Raise the Roof” is a fitting second helping, recapturing the smouldering chemistry between the two but also, most importantly moving the partnership on. If the first album was mostly about immersing their distinctive vocal tones in American country, then “Raise the Roof” sees them musically cross the Atlantic and dip their toes in English folk and the anglicised R N’B of early Fleetwood Mac and Yardbirds.

In many ways this is the closet I have heard Robert Plant ever get to Zeppelin in his solo work. High and Lonesome has Kashmir-esque strings and You Led me to The Wrong could be a long-forgotten outtake from “Led Zeppelin III”. What makes this record though is the same thing that made its predecessor, the warmth between its protagonists. They just so effortlessly bounce of each other’s, allowing their distinctive voices room to breath but us gloriously combining when appropriate. Proof that sometimes, you can go back home.

Lords of the Lost are one of those bands that I have not paid much attention to. I know people who are fans and I know that what they do has probably been worth checking out, they just haven’t really blipped on my radar. Until now. Judas is Goth built for stadiums. It revels in its commerciality and ease of accessibility. Now I hear you cry that’s what Black Veil Brides do, and you slated them. Well, the fundamental difference is that Lords of Lost have the gift of slick songwriting. Be they fast or be they slow, every track here is an utter banger.

This is a Rock opera in the style of Tommy or War of the World. It is chock full of choral intermissions and symphonic interludes. It is extravagant and it is bathed in grandeur. What shines through is its level of ambition. Like Ghost before them Lords of the Lost have the eyes firmly set on the world beyond cult status and the dingy club circuit. “Judas” is the sound of a band transcending the self-defined confides of Goth and thinking big, bold and bombastic.

Last year I got stick from some quarters for not embracing Springsteen’s lockdown album. Well, this year we do have a great Springsteen album to feast on, however it is not from the boss. Slick eighties obsessed stadium botherers the Killers have ditched their synth drenched pop anthems and instead created a stark and organic sketch of small-town America.

“Pressure Machine” takes its inspiration from “Nebraska” era Springsteen but has enough originality that it does not feel derivative. It is based on the people that Brandon Flowers grew up with and there is a beautiful level of role play here as he brings these stories and characters to life. The other wonderful thing about this album is its sound. It is warm and slight with the polished production of previous records abandoned in favour of a vintage analog feel. One of the records that I had no intention of falling in love with this year but that ended up capturing both my heart and imagination.

Blackgaze, that most controversial of genre clashes. The unholy union of indie stalwart Shoegaze (think Cocteau Twins, “Dark lands” era Jesus and the Mary Chain and Lush before they went britpop) and Black Metal. Those who get it see it as a glorious evolution of a genre that was getting bogged down in its own mythology (you can tell which side I stand) and those that don’t, see it as hipster metal and the gentrification of a once proud and defiant genre.

This is blackgaze at it’s most dreamy, atmospheric and transcendental. There is metal but that is mostly courtesy of the goblin-esque vocals. The actual music itself is a sonic soundscape of soaring melody and melancholic instrumentation. As an album “As the Morning Dawns We Close Our Eyes” is actually quite hypnotic. It burrows into your head and takes root. It isn’t quite whistle to work music, but it does have an infectious quality that means that you are thinking about it long after it has gone. Evocative, emotive and immersive.

Yet more autobiographical art pop from Iceland’s favourite adopted son. I was beginning to wonder whether he was beginning to run out of traumatic experiences to put to music, but he has managed to mine his early teen-hood to find yet more tales of alienation, small town bigotry and awkward coming of age. John Grant’s trick is that no matter how allergic you think you are to internally obsessed biographical numbers, he does them in such a self-deprecating and irreverent manner that you can not help but be engaged and entertained. He is modern indie pop’s premiere storyteller. He has a unique and exhilarating way of spinning a yarn that is utterly infectious. Peer-less.

I keep saying that I don’t get Metalcore, but then something like this pops up. This is great, it is for all intents and purposes a great pop-rock album in that it is chocker full of well-structured and beautifully realised pop songs. This is an album to be sung along to, to be danced along to and (when on public transport) to be hummed along to. Annisokay are evidently fed-up being a bit concerned and have gone for broke here. However, where it succeeds where so many other thrusts towards commerciality have failed, is that it understands that good pop is far more than a catchy chorus. These are well crafted bangers with clear beginnings, middles and ends. If this doesn’t push Annisokay up the pecking order, then there is something wrong in the world.

Timothy Showalter and his one-man project Strands of Oak are mainstays in these lists. Amongst the metal every two years he pops up, usually at around this point in the countdown, with another wonderful slice of fuzzy americana. He has developed over the years, taking in Bluegrass and American Folk, but at heart this is Alt-Rock.

As ever his subject matter is deeply personnel. Since his last record he has quit drinking, left his wife and moved to Austin, all of which are dealt with here with frank honesty, but also a good dollop of self-deprecating humour. There are moments you do worry for him (the title track feels like him giving up) but then he pulls it together and starts whittering about his dead cat and Jimi Hendrix hanging out. It is that ability to provide light at the darkest moments that has always made Strands of Oak so interesting and In Heaven is no exception. Dark, dry but also playful and most importantly really rather good indeed.

Another gloriously epic record. The members of Ghost of Atlantis have been around the block (as members of Devilment and The Conflict Within) and the quality at show illustrates this. This is an ambitious album that is brim-full of ideas. It is not content with sitting in one genre or ploughing one distinct furrow. Instead, it pickpockets from as many different styles and genres as it can get its dirty mitts on. There is Symphonic, Power and Operatic influences but there is also plenty of the hallmarks that you would expect from Death and Black Metal. The experience of the band members means that they have the skill and aptitude to blend together these diverse and distinct influences and to, in the end, create something that feels both Grandiose but also grounded.

Norwegian folk/prog collective with an ever-revolving line up. Hot on the heels of two children’s albums, they have taken a 90 degree turn into the macabre. This is a horror album which gleefully mashes the morbid storytelling of Nick Cave with the gruesome directness of Death Metal. As wonderful as some of the mangled word play is, it is not one to put on in front of the kids.

Musically, it retreats back into the warm organic organ driven folk-prog of the seventies. It is very similar in sound to vintage Jethro Tull and also has whiffs of pagan all-stars Black widow. It is also long, a staggering eighty minutes but because it is such a diverse and intriguing album, the time actually flies by. Undoubtedly released five decades too late it is still a playful, at times silly and but overall highly enjoyable record.

A self-proclaimed neo-prog supergroup, Frost* consists of members of prog also rans Arena, IQ and Kino. Due to the needs of their various day jobs, Frost* has split and reformed numerous times, each time has been labelled as the last but each time something pulls the members back together. “Day and Age” is their fourth record and is an intriguing mix of modern and classic prog.

Rather than stick to a tried and tested formula, they have listened to what bands like Vola and wheel are doing with prog and have assimilated those into their approach. It is also a lot more introverted and insular than you would expect and the sweeping majestic passages that are usually the hallmarks of classic prog are actually used sparingly. Instead, the album is reserved and intricate and the tracks are slow and refrained in showing their beauty. In all a complex but ultimately highly rewarding album.

Wardruna have transcended being a side project and become a cultural phenomenon. Their success maybe be down to a societal desire to a cast away modern influences and return to more earthy and organic sound or it maybe something to do with the series Vikings, which has frequently used their music. It could be either or it could be both. What is true is that they have firmly moved beyond the Metal fraternity that they were once a part of (the founding members came from Black Metal goliaths Gorgoroth) and they have found a place in popular culture. “Kvitravn” sees them broaden their sound, but without losing that feeling of authenticity. This doesn’t flirt with ancient Nordic folk; this is firmly ancient Nordic folk and you can imagine it played in shadowy halls a millennia ago.

By describing themselves as a "slam death bulldozer from South Africa" they are doing my job for me. This is raw and brittle Metal that dials up the brutality as far it will go. Coarse and full of indignation, “Praenuntius Infiniti” this is the sound of a band thoroughly pissed off with their lot in life and hellbent on telling us all about it. There is no subtly or textured layers here, “Praenuntius Infiniti” wears its unadulterated aggression and rage on its (heavily tattooed) sleeve. It is an unrelenting torrent of noise, and it is that power and unfaltering energy that makes its such as an impressive album.

It is very rare that I come across something that is truly unique, but I can hand and on heart say that “For the First Time” sounds like nothing else on this list or that you will come across this year. There is free form jazz here and some traits of eighties indie, there is also bits of country and springles of folk and also quite a lot of things I really can’t identify. What I do know is that it is sprawling boundary-less record that seems in no hurry to get where it should be going.

It seems intent on leaving conventions behind and in many places is atonal and unorthodox in the way that it unfolds. The structure of tracks is fluid and in numerous places it jettisons melody altogether in favour of repetitive discombobulating refrains. What I do know that it is refreshingly different. It is intriguing and feels more like a puzzle to solve than an album to listen to. Strange, angular but also utterly entrancing.

Over the last few years public perception of Toby Jobson has shifted from seeing him as the guy that used to front Little Angels to seeing him as the guy that currently fronts Wayward Sons. They have worked hard to build their current level of visibility, countless supports, lots of festival slots (when of course allowed) and three albums in four years. Their debut “Ghosts of Yet to Come” was corking, follow up “The Truth Ain’t What It Used to Be” was sadly less corking. Thankfully “Even Up the Score” is a return to form (if you can say that after one not so good album). It is a tight slick suite of songs that has one eye on commerciality but the other on articulating the bands social consciousness. Tracks like “Sign of The Times” and “Land of the Blind” manage to be both grand sing along rock songs and politically astute protest songs. Sticking two fingers up at the man never sounded so good.

What did you achieve when you were around fifteen, sixteen? I scrapped through my GCSE’s, held a Saturday job down and managed to be completely unattractive to the opposite sex (I also read the entirety of the Thomas Covenant saga which might explain that). Well, be prepared to feel inadequate. The youngest member of Manchester trio Tortured Demon is 15 and the eldest is 17 and they have managed to produce a record that musicians double their ages would be well proud of.

“In Desperation’s Grip” is an intriguing mix of thrash’s immediacy and Metalcore’s love of big shouty choruses. Without making big sweeping statements, I believe this is what it must have felt like hearing “Kill ‘em All” for the first time. As with Metallica’s debut, “In Desperation’s Grip” is not by any means the finished product (it is raw and could do with a good polish) but God, does it drip with potential.

You can tell that there is so much promise and untapped talent here just waiting to explode. What it also shares with “Kill ‘em All” is the energy levels and exuberance which are both off the charts. “In Desperation’s Grip” is one hell of calling card and it screams “We are Tortured Demon, remember our names”

Noctule is Svalbard frontperson Serena Cherry’s one women side project, conceived during lockdown to keep her sane. Rather than be some cathartic personal bloodletting session, Wretched Abyss is a fantastical reimagining of the worlds of online role-playing game Skyrim via the medium of Black Metal. Yep non more metal! What it also is, is really rather good indeed. Because Serena handles all instruments there is a sparse and minimalistic feel to it, the searing riffs feel uncluttered and have plenty of room to breathe.

Whilst substantively different to her day job, Noctule does retain Svalbard’s balance of nihilism and positivity. Rather than be knurled and down-tuned, her guitar work is euphoric and up-tempo. There are also a number of dreamy instrumental sections that contain to build the atmospherics. Overall, for a one person endeavour this is a remarkably effective and efficient slice of both Black Metal and world building. Haunting, evocative and very much music to slay dragons too.

An uncharacteristic earthy bath for undoubtedly one of my favourite bands in the world. All the ingredients that you would expect in an Iron Maiden album are present and correct; Bruce’s lung cracking screams – check, numerous mentions of god to keep born againer Nicko on side – check, Obscure historical references – check, Galloping riffs – check, Bass high up in mix – check, REALLY long songs – check. It contains all the components to be a classic Iron Maiden record, so why has it, comparatively, fared so badly.

The answer is that it plods, and the over-arching feeling is one of familiarity. It is when all is said and done a bit safe and predictable. You know where every song is going to go, there is no mystery and danger here. Nothing new is being added to the mix. It is still a very good album (remember it has made 55 on a year with some really really strong release) but what it isn’t, is a great Iron Maiden record.

The songs feel long simply because that is what the band does, as opposed to them actually needing to be long. Everything feels rather forced and it lacks any spontaneity. As I said it is not by any mean a terrible record, but this is Maiden and we expect more than mid-table obscurity from them. I have been through it numerous times, hoping that it will be on this spin, that the penny will drop, but every time single run through ends the same. A distinct feeling of disappoint and haunting realisation that my beloved Maiden have, whisper it, produce a rather dull album.

It is often said that the devil has the best tunes, and this album proves it. It seems like an oxymoron to use the word catchy when describing Black Metal, but this album has proper songs with proper chorus and proper earworms that burrow into your head. They seem to have taken the aesthetics of Melodic Death Metal (i.e. Maiden esque riffs combined with Death Growls) and applied it to Black Metal.

“Burn In Many Mirrors” is an epic record that reveals itself in a cinematic fashion. It is still very much Black Metal and has the obligatory atmospherics of fear and menace, but there is also a vibrancy and positivism to their approach that lifts it well beyond their peers. There are points where it feels and sounds happy, which usually in Black Metal circles would see them having their inverted crosses snapped and sent out of the room to have a good long think about themselves. But on “Burn in Many Mirrors”, it works, really works.

It’s all boom bust with my beloved Manics. 2018’s “Resistance is Futile” was terrible. A creative vacuum of an album with no redeeming features. But never a band to sit around feeling sorry for themselves, they have bounced back with an absolute corker. The Manic Street Preachers are at the best when they are melancholic, for all the commercial successes they are not a happy band and that was “Resistance is Futile’s” problem. “The Ultra Vivid Lament” recaptures their most important USP, the ability to smuggle in ultra-depressive lyrics disguised in pleasant melodies.

With “The Ultra Vivid Lament” James dispensed with convention and wrote the songs on a piano as opposed to his customary battered acoustic. This has given the album a more pop and ballady feel. But rather than use that to go out-right sugary and anthemic, they have instead headed inwards and created an album that sounds insular and restrained. This is the Manics being reflective and reserved and it really suits them.

A dark, contemplative album that exists on the very fringes of Metal (in fact, Big Brave are often described as Fringe Metal). It is a sludgy and pendulous take on post Metal. Instead of the usual eutrophic interludes, “Vital” intersperses its Metal with dense grumpy noise. Still atmospheric but with the joy and delicacy removed.

This is an album about pain, the pain of not belonging and the pain of not being understood. It would be easy to articulate that pain with screams and crashing noise, but instead Big Brave use a low frequency creeping melody. What may feel like monotonous sound is instead a complex eco-system of melancholic sound. A deep and oblique album that you have to work with, but believe me it is worth it as there is so much beauty in the despair. It may take a number of listens but this is an album that will penetrate your soul.

Another one-woman Black Metal Project, however where as Noctule were quite straight forward in their delivery, Vouna seem to go out of their way to be as obtuse and stubborn as possible. This is the definition of a difficult album and you get the distinct impression that Yianna Bekris does not give one hoot if nobody else in the world ever hears “Atropos” or at least listens to more than its first five minutes. It is heady mix of different styles and textures, some that merge eloquently together and others that jar horribly.

It is that disregard for convention and accessibility that makes this such an enticing record. It is a monumentally personal record with Yianna concocting the vast spirals of mournful synths and bleak doomy riffs for no other reason than to sedate her own soul. You feel all the way through that you are eves dropping on someone else’s misery and perversely that makes it such an intoxicating listen. Rhythmic, hypnotic and at times completely non-linear, it is nevertheless a triumph in cohesion and immersion. It may be at times a hard album to follow, but it is one that leaves a deep and lasting mark on your soul.

This records inclusion is even more poignant because Big Big Train’s lead singer David Longdon tragically died last week after a traumatic fall (and there you were thinking that this list couldn’t get any more depressing). His sad passing could not have come at a worst time as “Common Ground” looked like it would finally see this underground Prog revelation finally get the plaudits that they so richly deserve.

Active in some form or another since 1990 and responsible for thirteen albums over that time, it has taken Big Big Train three whole decades to become an overnight sensation. Initially a studio project for Greg Spawton and Andy Poole with an ever-revolving cast of guest members, they starting making traction in the mid noughties as the progressive revival gathered speed. Very much a word-of-mouth sensation, they only started operating as a live act in 2015 and even then they kept their appearances few and far between. They seemed to reveal in their position as the prog connoisseur’s band of choice. It became a badge of honour showing your prog credentials if you professed to being a fan of Big Big Train.

With a first ever UK tour in 2019 and a planned (but never fulfilled) headline slot at Ramblin Man Festival, “Common Ground” (and its already planned follow up “Welcome to the Planet”) were going to be the albums that finally allowed Big Big Train to transcend from cult status to mainstream concern. “Common Ground” is like Hot chocolate (with rum in it of course) on a cold day. Warm, restorative and reassuringly familiar. This is Prog with all its technical authoritarianism removed.

Unlike most prog records it does not feel like the musicians are looking down their noises at you because they can do death-defying feats with their instruments, and you can’t. This is a comforting and emotive album that is actually about songs rather than providing hollow showcases of musical prowess. It is sincere and earnest in its delivery, wearing its heart very much on its sleeve. Big Big Train have created “Common Ground” for no other reason that they love making music together and that passion and honesty flows through. The premature loss of David Longdon is heart-breaking in itself but the what could have been with an album as good as “Common Ground” makes it a double tragedy.

Expansive and atmospheric post-rock from Poland. This is a relatively short but incredibly effective record. In fact, one of its best features is that it does not out-stay its welcome. The trio create an other-worldly sound that borrows as much from jingly jangly indie as it does from other post rock pioneers. There is a habit with this sort of stuff for bands to get lost within a song, endlessly repeating a refrain because they simply can’t figure out an effective way to bring a song to its conclusion. “Bridges” is refreshingly succinct in the way that it presents its goods and restrains from over-egging the pudding. It never gets too pretentious or euphoric and instead manages to weave its magic in a restrained and measured way. Self-control has never sounded so wonderful.

Exactly twelve months after Jim Bob’s passive aggressive masterpiece of a well-mannered protest album, he is back with another set of self-aware anthems about why the world is currently such as shit place. Actually, there is a bit more positivity in “Who Do We Hate Today” than there was in “Pop-Up” (not a lot I grant you, but still there is a bit more). There are actually chinks of light in up-beat numbers like “Summer of No Touching” and “Song for the Unsung” and you get the feeling Jim Bob is proactively attempting to see the good in the world.

However on other tracks it is business as usual. Pun-tastic lyrics filled with pop-cultural references and a refined courteous rage. Yes Mr. Jim Bob is mad as hell and he is not going to take it anymore, but he is also English, so he is going to channel his belligerence into a quirky semi-humorous song. And humour is the weapon of mass destruction of choice here. For all its indignant horror at the state of the world, it has decided that rather than become despondent and depressed, the best thing it can do is to make comic quims involving rhyming couplets. A refreshingly entertaining two fingers up to the world in general.

Lots of the albums on this list have been dark, grounded and rather depressing. Well. lets then travel to the other end of the dial. This is pure and utter absurdity bottled. Ambitious, over the top and utterly rooted in fantasy, this is by far the most expansive and elaborate thing that they attempted. Omega is big in all proportions. Big in sound, big in length (over seventy minutes) and big in the amount of ideas and concepts that it manages to squeeze in.

It also is very conscious of its own limitations and that of the genre that it operates in this. This is unashamedly Symphonic Metal and it isn’t trying to go off and do anything else. It embraces its bombastic nature and revels in being epic and extravagant. Free of self-doubt and any level of self-consciousness with is a sumptuous slice of multi-colour escapism.

This is Ghost but with added razor blades. Self-described as goth-bob, this is how Sleep Token should have sounded. This is pop music reimagined and remodelled through the prism of Black Metal, “We are the Dragon” is glitzy and glam but also simultaneously grim and grimy. It also has a mysterious and enigmatic air, an atmosphere heightened by the fact no one knows who Cvlt ov the Svn actually are.

Rumours are that they amount to no more than a secretive shrouded band leader and that all live members are just hired hands. Whoever they actually are, the raspy baritone delivery does bring to mind Andrew Eldritch and the whole Goth goes pop approach is reminiscent of the much maligned but actually brilliant “Vision Thing”. Shadowy, playful and as camp as a jamboree, this is malignantly flamboyant album that reverentially mixes light and darkness.

Authentic sounding 70’s rock from Canada. Soulful vocals combine with groove encrusted guitar to create something that feels familiar but simultaneously highly exciting. The Damn Truth seem to have unearthed and re-engaged with those magic ingredients that makes Rock n’ Roll so special. This is a simple and straight forward record that gets rid of 90% of all the packaging and distractions and instead concentrates on the passion. Recorded live in one take by the legendary Bob Rock, it captures the beauty of rock n’ roll in full flight. Foot to the floor simplicity at its very best, “Now or Nowhere” showcase the minimal beauty of guitar, bass, vocals and drums. Upbeat, optimistic and just a pure slice of nostalgia for a world we thought we had lost.

This list has a tradition of having (relatively) high entries from artists that the rest of the world considers as missing in action. In the past Deep Purple, Blue Oyster Cult and Marillion have all scored entries in the top entries of the list. Well, this year it is turn of power pop pioneers Cheap Trick with their twentieth (count them) record.

This is a breezy, sun-drenched collection of inconsequential bubble-gum rock. In many ways its business as usual for Cheap Trick, but given the context of the last two years “In Another World” just feels so right. It’s happy with its lot in life and it doesn’t want to change the world or even complain about it. It simply wants to pull back the roof and enjoy life. Yes, it’s light weight and yes Robin Zander’s voice is wearing a little thin, but there is something zealously joyous about this record that made me want to listen to it again and again. 45 minutes of carefree bliss, very much what the doctor ordered.

A thoroughly modern sounding record that wears its heart on its sleeves. Heavy music has a reputation for being macho and emotionally repressed. Modern Grotesque is anything but. It is a fragile and intricate beast that uses a tapestry of noise to express various emotional states. There is a raw vulnerability at play here, as vocalist Staska uses stark personnel lyrics to bear their soul. The music behind it is a complex eco-system of intertwined harshness and sensitivity. It has layers and layers of interconnecting sonics that together provide an immersive canvas that engulfs the listener. Emotive, evocative and utterly compelling.

The reason I love doing this list is that it means that I need to listen diligently to a large proportion of the albums that are released each week. It takes me out of my comfort zone and exposes me to records that I would have otherwise undoubtedly missed. As they say, you don’t know what you like until you hear it. This is one of those albums that would not have come on my radar if I wasn’t diligently trying to sample as many records as possible.

This is a disconcerting and challenging record but it also highly rewarding and enticing. It is deconstructed Metal, the pieces are all there, they are not necessarily in the order that you were expecting. There are parts of it which feel akin to crawling through an underground tunnel; close, claustrophobic and unending. But then it opens up into expansive majesty and there is the exhilaration of reaching something that feels like safety.

Still may be on their first ever release but they understand how to mix shock and awe with introspective contemplation. The album ebbs and flows, taking the listener through a sonic journey. There are points where it is difficult to make out what it is trying to do but then it suddenly it makes aural sense again. { } is a highly intelligent and fiercely independent record that feels lightyears away from the traditional definitions of Rock and Metal. Bold, enlightening and continually evolving, this is album that feels completely different each time I listen to it. Astounding!

The pioneers of Power Metal return with a wonderful blend of their classic and current line-up. The Pumpkins reunited line-up (essentially the 2016 version of the band with the added involvement of former members Michael Kiske and Kai Hansen) undertook a lucrative and well reserved reunion tour that lasted nearly two years. Kiske, who had always derided the idea of returning to the band as retrograde step, particularly seemed to be enjoying himself and therefore it was no shock when this enhanced line up announced that they were heading to the studio.

“Helloween” the album is everything that is wonderful about Helloween the band but escalated and expanded. Kiske, Hansen and Deri’s diverse vocal styles complement each other and giving the album a conversational and collaborative feel. The whole thing feels special and luxurious and the band’s signature sound is giving extra resonation with the addition of a third guitarist. Big, epic and utterly unphased by the passage of time, this is everything I had hoped it would be and more. Pure Power Metal.

Imagine if My Bloody Valentine had actually got their arses into gear and made that fabled third album when they were meant to. Well, it would have sounded like this. I can not find any other way to describe this than post-Blackgaze. It still is a wonderful collusion of dreamy and darkness, but the brittle element supplied by the metallic elements has been removed. Instead, we have a fascinating amalgamation of gloom and tranquillity. All the tracks are slight and light-touched, like they are almost not there. They are darkly ethereal, filled both with an unaccountable beauty, but also have an ever present under current of dread. If the Cocteau Twins had been asked to soundtrack the Exorcist, this is what it would have sounded like.

At frickin last. After nine failed attempts, Trivium have finally produced an album that I feel lives up to all their hype (not that they are making albums for the sole purpose of pleasing me, but still). Up until now they have left me cold, and I haven’t quite got on the Trivium train. “In the Court of the Dragon” is in many ways the album that I had wanted Maiden to have made. It’s anthemic, it has choruses designed for a baying crowd to chant along to and it is concise. The tracks feel economical in their length and that they have been written with a clear understanding of how they will end (there have been many songs I have listened to this year where I was sure I would be trapped in a specific track for the rest of eternity).

“In the Court of the Dragon” is the history of Metal distilled into one record. If an alien lands tomorrow and asks to understand what this bizarre genre is all about, I will hand them a copy of “In the Court Dragon”. It captures Metal larger than life, its energy, its bombasticity and its eccentricity. Heavy Metal has always been about a combination of fantastic and brutality, this runs through this album. It is jagged enough to get the adrenaline flowing but commercial enough to be accessible. Brimful of catchy tracks that are muscular enough to hold their own, this is the album that finally, after nearly twenty years, proves Trivium’s right to be at Metal’s top table.

Maybeshewill’s decision to call it a day back in 2016 always felt premature and a case of unfinished business. Purveyors of a particular brand of math and post rock, their story did not feel in anyway to be over. This has proved very much to be the case, though they are one of a number of bands that had the misfortune to decide to reunite in 2020 only to find any opportunities to actually perform again together were thwarted. They decided to do the next best thing and headed for the studio.

“No Feeling is Final” feels like a fitting next chapter. It contains the traits that we expect from them but it is much more mature and rounded album than its predecessor. “No Feeling is Final” is the sound of a band that over the last seven years has grown up and become more sure of themselves and their collective abilities. There is less showing off (“ohh look what we can do”) and instead it is a self-reflective and self-assured record that knows when to be restrained and when to roar. In fact, there is very little roaring and instead it occupies itself with being a delicate and beautiful tapestry of refrained instrumentals. Sumptuous, slight and utterly wonderful.

Swedish progressive Metal act that started of as a supergroup side project for a number of extreme metal musicians, but has morphed into the main band of former Opeth drummer Martin Lopez and vocalist Joel Ekelof. They have created a really interesting amalgamation of Prog Metal and eighties AOR that sounds a lot like 90125 era Yes.

There is a luscious musicology about what Soen are doing. It’s clever, intricate and oozes in quality. Having been immersed in the harshness of Extreme Metal, Soen feel like an exercise in cleansing and purification. There are no jagged lines or brittle edges here. The overall feeling of “Imperial” is smooth and glossy and it is full of melodic refrains and lavish flourishes. Rich and luxurious, this is the aural equivalent of eating truffles.

Apparently, this is celestial Blackgaze (no me neither and I am the queen of sub-genres). However even though I don’t quite know where to pigeonhole this album, I still bloody love it. It is an atmospheric, expansive and cinematic. A widescreen record that should soundtrack footage of frozen wastelands. “Istok” weaves a cloud of haunting melody around the listener. Entirely instrumental aside from third track ‘The Shinning’ it has a meditational and transcendental quality about it. Too evocative to be background music, but tender enough to accompany hardcore daydreaming. Very much an album to lose oneself in.

My god! How many ideas can one album have and how many meandering, but fruitful highways can a single record wander? If “Odyssey” was a wine I would be getting whiffs of Hawkwind, sniffs of vintage Uriah heep, large gulps of Opeth and bigs glugs of Cathedral. This is doom prog, plodding monolithic riffs encased in a crust of expansive and rather cosmic musicality.

The doom is used as a grounding anchor to allow the album to stroll off in different sonic directions, but still have a fixed point upon which to return to. Experimental and sprawling, this is the audio equivalent of a open world adventure. Very much one of those records that provides new experiences each time you venture into it.

Those who have a season ticket to my lists might remember “A Romance with Violence” from last year, which was a Spaghetti western reimagined as Black Metal. Well Untamed Land claim to be the inventors of the seemingly incompatible pairing of Western Cinematics and Black Metal. This is their second album (and their is used sparingly as Untamed Land are actually Patrick Kern on his lonesome) and it sees them further expand the idea of Black Metal being a canvas upon which to tell tales of the American west.

This is a Widescreen, atmospheric and rather experimental strain of Black Metal. It is not unafraid to step out of the conventions of the genre and uses it as a launching pad from which to sonically explore as opposed to a rigid rulebook. Key here is the ambiance. This is an album designed to conjure up imagery and to stir the imagination. Evocative, engaging and immersive, this is musical storytelling at its best.

Right! Health warning here as this album won’t be for everyone. It is unnerving and rather impenetrable mix of industrial drone and ambient Black Metal. It is tight, taught and in places sounds like what homeland security would play to illicit compliance from captured interlopers. It is not the stuff that your Christmas playlist is built upon. So why, I hear you cry, is it so high in the list?

Well, I love and adore difficult music. Music to me should not be a background noise, it is not sonic wallpaper. It should shock, challenge and evoke a reaction. “Ephemeris” is the definition of difficult. It is best described as Black Trance (in fact there is a track called Dense Mental Trance which rather adequately captures the mood of the whole album) as it is a hypnotic and repetitive torrent of white noise.

This is the very edges of music, and it is that desire to be this explorative that has made me fall in love with this album. It is harsh, it is brittle, and it has no chinks of restorative redemption. This is a true heart of darkness, and it is that sheer level of despair and fury that makes the album so extraordinary. A landmark in inaccessibility.

Lars Nedland is the current voice of my beloved Borknager. This is another of his many side projects (I have counted three, there may be more). He has collected a number of other Norwegian musicians to create a warm record that harks back to the point where the expansiveness of 70’s prog met the commerciality of its 80’s incarnation.

The Metal is dialled right back and instead what we get is an engaging and playful romp through prog’s most accessible time period. “Anti” is very much a love letter to the unsung pioneers of the eighties, it avoids the usual suspects, instead think early eighties Genesis and Yes, as well as large dollops of fish-era Marillion. There is also lashings of goth on offer here, but not the dark, foreboding kind. This is a welcoming, convivial album that uses the goth to add to the majestic and regal atmospherics as opposed to creating any sort of malicious aesthetic.

“Anti”, is an utter joy to listen to. The keyboards are luscious, and the melodies wash off you like like warm tender kisses. It is the feel-good factor channelled into recorded music. Very few albums on this list have managed to make me this happy.

In certain circles this has been 2021 most anticipated record. A delicious collaboration between post-hardcore legends Converge and the queen of dark rock Chelsea Wolfe. It is one of those amalgamations that turns out to be greater than its constituent parts. Converge are the gods of noise. They have made a career out of creating great sheets of pulsating sonic punishment that personify their shared emotional states. This is by far the most accessible material that they have ever been part of, but that does not mean its impact has been in anyway watered down. Chelsea Wolfe weaves tapestries of torch-song goth. Deeply personal and insular, this is the most expansive I have ever heard her be. The material here feels like Stadium versions of her usual approach.

Together Converge and Chelsea Wolfe have subverted their respective styles, to create something that sounds like neither of them. There is a restrained and inward-looking feel to “Bloodmoon: I”, but this couples with an expansive confidence with both artists casting aside their respective imposter syndromes. Neither act have comprised their individualities, but they have both managed to temper their approaches and create something slow, brooding and immensely heavy. Dark but melodic this is a tremendous record that manages to be simultaneously downbeat and euphoric. Captivating and haunting, this sees both acts go mainstream without losing an ounce of their collective authenticity.

You will have noticed on this list here, that interspersed between the dark and despondent there has been slices of pure unadulterated rock n’ roll goodness. As much as I love a sullen miserabilist wrapped in impenetrable gloom, I also adore good time boogie. Dirty Honey are not ploughing any new furrows here, the soulful bluesy heavy rock of their self-titled debut album has been done a million times before. But when it is done this well and with so much panache, is there any room to complain? If you were to accuse them of plagiarism you would also need to haul a thousand other bands into the dock, as Dirty Honey are just following a long lineage of young musicians that have appropriated the sound from which rock n’ roll was forged.

In many ways, Dirty Honey reminds me of The Black Crowes’ game changing first album, in that it is a raw and unrefined stab at blues rock that wears its passion and authenticity on its sleeve. It has a genuineness and innocence about it that comes from it simply being four friends that want to play rock n’ roll together. There is no marketing masterplan at play, and they are yet to have their exuberance beaten out of them by the unrepenting industry machine.

Marc Labelle has a sumptuous voice that drips sex, drugs and rock n’ roll. It has the raspy sleaze of Steven Tyler in his prime but there is a range here that is way and beyond anything he was ever capable of. Marc has seductive, penetrative tones that bypass the brain and go straight to the pleasure centres. The man is born to be a rock n roll singer and vocal refrains are some of the most impressive I have heard for decades. This is decadent, rich, blues-drenched rock music and as decadent, rich, blues-drenched rock music should be played. It may be bereft of originality, but when an album is this good who gives a monkey.

There is an irony in the fact that the musical snobs who deride the soft rock of say Bryan Adams, Simple Minds and Huey Lewis are probably exactly the same people who have made War on Drugs a platinum selling stadium band. This is synth drenched 80’s adult-oriented rock reinvented as a serious and respected art form. It does not necessarily mean that “Cuts like a Knife” is actually an undiscovered masterpiece, but it does mean that Adam Granduciel has hit on a rich unmined stream of musical inspiration. “I don’t Live Here Anymore” does not wander far from the fertile ground of its predecessors “Lost in the Dream” and “A deeper understanding” and there are no ill judged Bon Inver like jumps into ultra-modern soundscapes.

War on Drugs have found a signature sound and they have decided to build upon it. This does however mean that is repetitive or lacking in vision. “I don’t Live Here Anymore” is a gorgeous collection of self-aware anthemic americana. It very aware of its own limitations and concentrates on polishing and heightening its existing content as opposed to wanting to be something that it is not. It is that grounding and sense of honesty and earthliness that makes it such a real and touching album.

“You are Not Alone” was my album of the year back in 2018. A euphoric kaleidoscope of diverse styles and inspirations, it was a beacon of positivity in a sea of nihilism. There has however been an evident shift from then and “God is partying” is an entirely different kettle of fish.

This time we find our erstwhile hero in a contemplative mood, questioning his own existence and the very ideologies that his career and image has been built on. If “You are Not Alone” was the sound of ecstatic self-confidence, well “God is Partying” is the come-down. It is the hangover album, the soundtrack to the creeping self-realisation that you are not actually the centre of the universe. If “You are Not Alone” is late Saturday night mid-session, then “God is Partying” is the Monday morning return to work.

There is optimism to be found here but it is much more refined and restrained. The highs are lower and mostly the tracks maintain a level of monotone normalism that is in stark contrast to the transcendental waves of bliss that emitted from “You are not Alone”. That is not to say that “God is Partying” is a bad album, bear in mind that it is at 28 in a stunningly good year for new music.

It is actually an extraordinary downcast and insular album that shows the complex inner workings of what many considered a shallow and one tracked mind. This is the sound of someone not used to bare his soul, baring his soul. It is deep, meditative and, in the end, cathartic. The party may well be over and for once we may be getting a glimpse at the real Andrew Fetterly Wilkes-Krier.

The sixth track on here is entitled multi-layered chaos, and it seems to sum up the record well. Across its eight tracks and forty four minute duration it has a hell of lot going on. There is Thrash, technical Death Metal and lots of melodic blackened Metal. Rather than pigeonhole these different variants into individual songs, Stortregn have decided to play all these distinctive styles simultaneously.

What could easily have been a mess actually turns into a delicious amalgam of complementary textures. This is a clever record and actually chaos is probably the furthest from the truth. The band seem highly adept at knowing when to be technical and then when to turn on the melody in order to have the biggest impact. I know entertaining is not a term used much within Death Metal circles, but this is a fascinating and, yes entertaining album. Everything is done so well, and the songs are so well crafted that it feels such a satisfying listen. When Metal like this is done this well, there is nothing else like it.

For a man that doesn’t particularly rate Metalcore and Deathcore, I have got quite a lot in this list. However, “Kin” seems to mark Whitechapel’s shift away from the word of churning riffs and guttural growls and towards the forbidden fruits of Prog Metal. Previous album “The Valley” saw that metamorphosis begin, Phil Bozeman embraced the use of clean vocals and the intense guitars were slowed down to allow some forms of variations to creep in. “Kin” sees them leap into the world of intricate time-signatures and textured nuances with two feet.

The nearest comparison I can come up with is Swedish doom prog monoliths Katatonia. I know they feel an ocean away from the claustrophobic contorted sound of Deathcore but believe me, Whitechapel have made a Katatonia record, a really really good Katatonia record. There is so much emotional resonance here and they use light and shade in their music to create a delicate eco-system of subtle but pulsating riffs. It seems bizarre to say this about a band that comes from such a blunt and forthright genre, but this is such a refined and fragile album.

Turnstile are single-handedly reinventing and rewriting hardcore. “Glow On” is nothing short of revelational. It takes a sound and approach that sounds familiar and then subverts it completely. Hardcore has been known for being pure and undiluted and in many peoples’ views once you add anything to it, it stops being Hardcore.

Turnstile have no truck without that type of parochial attitude and with “Glow On” have tried to blend as many other influences and styles as possible. There is samba here, there is R&B and there is, whisper it, funk. Hell, Devonté Hynes (once known as Lightspeed Champion remember him?) turns up in his persona of Blood Orange. To quote Steve Coogan as the late great Anthony H Wilson, “this is the moment that the white man learns to dance”. And that is the point, this is an album that challenges every perception and opinion about heavy music and utterly disproves them. It is vital, colourful and full of vim and vigour. Wonderful.

Another former winner of my coveted album of the year trophy (2017 for “Thrice Woven”). “Primordial Arcana” sees them step away from the ambient atmospherics and instead create an album that is for all intents and purposes a best of Black Metal. Opener ‘Mountain Magick’ sounds like “In the nightside Eclipse” era Emperor whilst ‘Through Eternal Fields’ brings to mind Darkthrone at their most atmospheric.

“Primordial Arcana” manages to capture perfectly the juxtaposition at the heart of Black Metal. The unholy alliance of decaying evil and majestic wonderment. Black Metal wants to be as nasty and anti-social as it can be (burning down churches was a sure-fire way to cause a stir in ultra-liberal Norway) but it wants to do that it in as flamboyant and grandiose way as possible. “Primordial Arcana” perfectly surfs this oxymoron.

It has replaced the Satan worship with a devotion to the natural environment and its big bad is humanity and its blindness to what it is doing to the planet. Previous albums were transcendental meditations about the wonderous of the world around us. “Primordial Arcana” is angry about we are doing to that very same world and uses caustic Black Metal to manifest that anger. Epic but also uncompromising, this is the sound of a band deciding that pro-active action is the only way forward.

Veterans of this list, they scored the top spot back in 2009 with the sublime “Crack the Skye”. Since then, the subsequent three albums have all been in my end of year Top 10. This is something about the strength of this year’s release as “Hushed and Grain” is by far the best album they have made since “Crack the Skye” yet it only has made 23.

“Crack the Skye” was a once in a lifetime achievement and is certainly one of the best Heavy Metal albums ever made, if not one of best albums ever made. Ambitious, self-contained and utterly extraordinary, it singlehandedly revitalised the concept album and showed how it could work in the 21st century. Since then, they have struggled to live in its imposing shadow. “The Hunter” was an attempt to go mainstream and commercial that has not aged well and “Once More ‘Round the Sun” and “Emperor of the Sun” both tried (and failed) to recapture the alchemy and black magic that made “Crack the Sky” such an amazing album.

“Hushed and Grain” does not even bother to immolate its distinguished sibling and is all the better for it. Instead, we get an organic album that borrows as much from American folk as it does from Metal. This is a dark and reflective record that is deep, long and profound. Death and grief are familiar subjects with Mastodon but here they seem to actually contemplate them rather than rally against them. It is philosophical, challenging and probably their most mature record yet. It is still weighty and heavy, but that girth is used sparingly and therefore has more impact when it arrives.

There is a lot to take in here and certainly this is their most varied and diverse record. It may initially seem to be over-packed with diverse ideas but this one of those albums that unfurls over time. Creative and psychedelic, Mastodon finally seem to have exorcised the spectre of “Crack the Sky” by creating an album that is (almost) equally brilliant but sounds nothing like it.

Everyone’s favourite reprobates swung back into action in 2019 in indomitable fashion. “Renaissance Men” was their best album since “Earth Vs. Wildhearts” and the swagger and tinkle in their collective eyes was very much back to stay. Fast forward two years (and one global pandemic) and we get the second instalment of this particular purple patch. Whereas “Renaissance Men” was very much a Wildhearts album and sounded like it had direct linage from their esteemed debut, “21st Century Love Songs” sees them take a sharp left into hitherto uncharted territory.

Across ten high octane sonic grenades, Ginger and co make daring raids on multiple genres including punk, glam rock and prog. There are even tracks were The Wildhearts sound like, whisper it, a proper Metal band. What is so striking about the record is its ambition and its openness to take risks. They could have played safe and made “Renaissance Men part 2”, but instead they opted to decisively flex their creative muscles and stretch their collective musical palettes as far as they could go. A diverse album that shows that the Wildhearts can produce a catchy sing along in any genre that they desire to stick their noses into.

Surely a shoe in for best of lists everywhere, Green Lung have produced an album that manages to sound simultaneously vintage and thoroughly modern. They have taken folk Metal and given it a thoroughly British makeover. “Black Harvest” feels organic, expansive and part of a linage to stretches back through Jethro Tull and Black Widow. But there are new elements at play here. There are snatches of thrash and the malevolent spectre of Black Metal is never far away. “Black Harvest” feels like it re-writes the rule book and resets the clock in terms of pagan influenced Metal. It makes no pretense to follow a certain model or template and instead defiantly does its own thing. Warm, appealing and in places utterly joyous, it shows that folk Metal does not need to be camp or self-obsessed, but instead can be life-affirming and euphoric.

Active since the mid-nineties, Orden Organ have only really broken in the collective consciousness in the last five years. “Final Days” is an apocalyptical concept album about the final destruction and evacuation of planet Earth. Ironically, its release was delayed by our very own mini apocalypse last year and it finally saw the light of day in March. This is an ambitious and expansive album that manages to eloquently balance songwriting and storytelling.

It is Power Metal but manages to avoid the excesses and flagrant cheesiness of the genre. Instead, we get ten beautifully constructed tracks that mix flare with slick commerciality. Everything is in the right proportion; the songs are catchy and sing-able, but they have weight and depth to them as opposed to be vacuous and convoluted. The album works as a compelling narrative but is also sounds wondrous and shows with a bit of restraint and vision what is possible with Power Metal.

I suspect that it is just me that lies awake at night and wonders were Blackgaze goes next. We have had a number of diverse examples of this most divisive of spliced genre’s and here comes another. Only it’s not, as these plucky Danes seem to have moved beyond the confides and into, well I’m not sure but god it sounds amazing. There are points where “Diorama” is pure Black Metal but then as soon as you get comfortable it shifts. It is like try to juggle water as the album seems to keep altering it shape and style with no logical progression or plan. It is that constant shifting of musical axis that make its so fascinating, as what is actually important here is what is happening under all the noise. The Metal here is actually a protective crust, sheltering within it the most delicate and exquisite of melodies. It seems perverse to call a Black Metal album beautiful, but Diorama is just that. A sumptuous and fragile being encased in a rough exoskeleton. Divine.

So where do you go after you have created one of the most extraordinary records ever made? “Magma” transcended Metal completely and became something else. Still heavy as buggery, it managed to sound unlike anything that had come before it or frankly after it. Five years later it is still revealing its secrets a little at a time. So, with that sort of milestone around your neck and weighed down by the expectations of millions, where do you go? Well, Gojira has chosen to go sideways. “Fortitude” is not a direct continuation or evolution from “Magma”, it does not even attempt to move their distinctive pristine sound forward. Instead, this is a bold and incisive step to the right.

The trick that “Magma” pulled off was to achieve perfection with effectively very little indeed. The star of the show wasn’t the precision riffs, it was the space around them. “Fortitude” has the most going on in it of Gojira’s seven albums. They have sacrificed the bare minimalism for something else. The searing curt minimal riffs, which are Gojira’s signature sound, are still there but “Fortitude” adds a sheen of commerciality and a more proggier feel. There is a lot going on here and that is not something you expect in a Gojira album.

“Fortitude” works because it feels distinctively like Gojira, but also different. It is more accessible and more political. They have always been socially and environmentally aware, but “Fortitude” feels like a desperate call to arms. A final rallying cry for a dying world. “Fortitude” manages to not be in “Magma’s” shadow by stepping far enough away from it so that it can viewed for its own brilliance.

This is Goth Metal at its most fragile and intricate. This a wonderous and beautiful album, full of emotive spirituality. The Death and Black Metal’s that they used to dabble in have been distilled right down in order to create an atmospheric and ethereal cauldron of raw passion and emotion. This is a tender and delicate album that uses the splendour of Goth and the muscle of Metal to convey the sensation of loss. This is the sound of a heart breaking articulated over 10 exquisite tracks.

Carcass are one of the most important, if not the most important Metal band of all time (its my opinion, but just so you know I am right). Between 1988 and 1996 they created the template for modern Metal. Everything that came after was influenced by what they did during that eight-year period. They may never have headlined arenas (or even medium sized halls) and they may never have sold a truckload of albums, but they changed everything.

Comeback album “Surgical Steel” showed that they were still capable of throwing Metal’s precious conventions up into the air and coming up with something no one else had ever tried before. “Torn Arteries” comes a good eight years later (the same timespan in which they released their first five genre defining albums) and see’s Carcass sound distinctly like Carcass, but also managing to once again jump defiantly into the unknown. “Torn Arteries” is less slick and less precisely poised than its predecessor. It has more jagged edges and there is almost a return to the raw primordial ooze of the first two records.

What “Torn Arteries” has is a fire in its belly, its impatient, driven and in some places, possessed. Bill and Jeff may well be in their mid-fifties, but they have not lost their compulsion to be as repulsive and disruptive as possible. They and Carcass are happy to grow old disgracefully and “Torn Arteries” is yet another attempt by them to upturn the apple cart and challenge perception.

Metal should not be safe, sedate or house trained and “Torn Arteries” knows this. It has no intention of trying to fit in or to be part of a particular style or scene. It is unapologetically nasty and barbed and that is the beauty of Carcass. By resolutely refusing to compromise they have made modern Metal what it is. “Torn Arteries” carries on that traditional on by screaming at the listener “We are Carcass, if you don’t like it, fuck off.”

One of my intentions with this list is to persuade none Metal aficionados reading it that their perceptions and assumptions about my most beloved of genres are wrong and miss-appropriated. The general view is that Metal is a knuckle-dragging neanderthal style of music that hasn’t the intellectual capability to tie its own shoelaces. This, as those of us who are immersed in the scene know, is as far from the truth as you can get and “Etemen Ænka” is one of those albums that prove our point.

This is a highly complex and clever record. It is cramped full of ideas and inspirations and manages to tread a fine line between refined and rugged. There is a lot going on across its sprawling hour and five-minute length, but it is presented in a way that actually makes linear sense. The best way to describe it as Tool if they nicked Mastodon’s guitar sound, but even throwing around those comparisons with exemplary dispensaries of this type of music actually undersells what Dvne have achieved.

“Etemen Ænka” may well be made up of layers of different variants of sound and textures, but Dvne have managed to merge it all together so that feels like a solid defined whole. It flows as an album and feels like they are taking the listener on a sonic journey. “Etemen Ænka” confirms these plucky young Scots as masterful storytellers and as I keep asserting I am pretty sure that in any other year this would have topped the pile, but there are still fourteen other albums to go…..

Transatlantic isn’t just a prog supergroup, it is a roll call of some of the, if not the biggest names in Prog. It is (deep breath) Neal Morse (ex–Spock's Beard), Roine Stolt (the Flower Kings), Pete Trewavas (Marillion) and Mike Portnoy (ex–Dream Theater). That is akin to Mick Jagger, Pete Townshend, Ringo Starr and Sting forming a band. This is their fifth album in 22 years of producing music together in-between the demands of their respective day jobs.

Actually, they have produced two albums here, an extended and abridged version of their apocryphal vision of life in the 21st century. But the abridged version isn’t just a callous edit it is a completely reshaped alternative version of the concept and story with new sections not found in the extended version.

The band are very clear there is no definitive version of this album and the version you choose is up to you and your personnel preferences, both are valid, and both are complete tales. For the playlist I have plumped for the 64-minute abridged version (entitled Breath of Life) simply because when you are trying to get in 100 albums before Christmas every minute is crucial. However, the 94 minute Forevermore version is also a valid entry and alternative.

The fact is that both are sumptuous, sprawling epic records that shows how expansive and wondrous prog can be when done right. It just drips with quality and utter musical perfection. Every note is perfect, every flourish is expertly crafted and every shift in gear feels well oiled and precisely perfect. It is a luscious record that is designed in such a way to entrance the listener. It doesn’t matter whether you choose the shorter or longer versions; you still find yourself lost in the story and mesmerising musicology. Pure Prog and pure brilliance.

Eighty-five minutes long (yes you read this right eighty-five minutes long) this is a post-black masterpiece that decides to not go down the noodling self-indulgence route. It would have been easy to fill these eighty-five minutes with endless atmospheric solos or long drawn-out ambient interludes, but Harikari for the Sky have other ideas. They have managed to create a long, convoluted record that avoids becoming bloated or entangled in his own ideas and ambitions.

Whilst distinctively post Black Metal it is still very much a Metal record. There are crunching riffs, screaming guitars and guttural vocals agogo and for such a lengthy record it manages to maintain a sense of urgency. It is heavy and uncompromising, but also manages to stretch and contort what we understand Metal to be. The ultimate acclaim however is the fact that no matter the astronomical length, when it ends you want to go straight back.

You will have noticed that the majority of the Metal entries at this stage in the countdown are here because they are convoluting and twisting the perceived rules and confides of the genre. I love Metal that refuses to stay in its box and forthrightly pushes hard at the sides of its envelope. Omnium Gatherum have been doing melodic Death Metal for twenty-five years and across nine albums. They have carved themselves a nice little niche with a small but committed fanbase. However out of the blue with album number ten they have set their ambition level to maximum and gone for broke.

“Origin” is nothing short of stadium melodic Death Metal. Usually, this hybrid genre splices death growls with Maiden like galloping guitars to create its signature sound. “Origin” takes this blueprint and swaps in the slick commercial riffs of Def Leppard. This is Death Metal but with its doors blown wide open and with a sheen of accessibility. It feels big, it feels buoyant and it feels utterly resplendent. This an arena friendly version of melodic Death Metal and it sounds divine.

With 2019’s “Pitfalls”, Leprous exited Metal completely and produced an album that sounded like Radiohead. It was good but it missed something. “Aphelion” makes me realise what it lacked, namely Metal. Now don’t think they have gone back to their progressive black of earlier albums, because they haven’t. But “Alphelion” does have a crunch and a heftiness about it that in retrospective was absent last time out.

What works really well is how sparingly the Metal is used. It is there and it provides a solid foundation to build from, but “Alphelion” is not at its heart a Metal album. It is actually many things and the band seem to be having a ball using the solid core of spitting guitars to wander off in many directions. There are splinters and shavings of so many different styles and approaches in here but in the end it simply revels in its uniqueness. By not trying to be anything Leprous have produced the album of their career.

An extraordinary record. Tight, taught, and caustic but also beholden of sparks of pure groove. This is extreme music reimagined. It is heavy and crushing but has enough intelligence and nuance in its song structures to appropriately and cleverly channel that harshness so that this is white noise you can sing along to. There is a spirit of the Ramones in what Pupil Slicer are doing, short and sharp grenades of primal energy that pummel your brain and then evaporate. Utterly exhilarating and so fresh and invigorating. Anger has never sounded so invigorating!

Emerging from the ashes of the much fancied but ultimately doomed Hang the Bastard, Urne seem to have written a list of all things they like in modern Metal and thrown that into a melting pot. The result is a peerless record that exists simultaneously within everyone of Metal’s many and varied sub-genres and none of them (like a hybrid hardcore Schrodinger’s cat). Each of its eight tracks exists within a different plane of Metal’s vast multi-universe, to the point where I had to not once, but on four separate occasions check I was still listening to the same album.

The variance and diversity between numbers is simply extraordinary as “Serpent & Spirit” morphs and transmogrifies in front of your very ears. It is a rollercoaster of an album; it straps you in and then launches you into a non-stop journey through Metal’s many lands. The ambition and vision of this record is simply astounding, and my overall impression is that this is an album that will talked out in hushed reverential terms for many years to come.

In hindsight, there is a lot of Prog on this list. There has been the old school luscious melody of *Frost and Big Big Train and the technical precision of the new generation via Between the Buried and Me and Wheel. However there has been nothing that sounds like “Void”. This is an incredible record, even more incredible when you realise how young these guys are. “Void” is a head on collision between the warm and deep prog of the seventies and its technical precision highly engineered 21st century counterpart.

The two styles intertwine, meaning that “Void” is a constantly changing art-form continually contorting its shape as you listen to it. It is built on an interspersion of sharp angular riffs counterbalanced with warm waves of luscious prog flourishes. The two approaches merge and meld so well, that “Void” feels like neither an old or new prog album but instead like a record that exists out of time. Unlike anything I have heard this year, in fact, unlike anything I have ever heard, “Void” is nothing short of extraordinary.

This is more audio book than actual record. It recounts the tragic true tale of a fleet of unidentified ships discovered in Northern Russia in 1930. Their respective crews were frozen perfectly in time, taking to their icy graves the explanation of how they got there. Kauan use a ghostly mix of post Metal to imagine the journey of the boats and the circumstances that lead to their collective horrific fate. In doing so, they have created the most evocative piece of storytelling.

This is not a concept album, it much more evolved and intelligent than that. This is a haunting ethereal novel, just set to music rather than transcribed onto the page. What is even more extraordinary is the fact that get across the struggle and hopelessness of the tale even though all the lyrics are in old Finnish. Whilst you don’t quite understand what is being sung, the emotion and the ethereal atmospherics carry you along with the narrative.

The music here is slight and nuanced, it is pure world building as the mournful guitar and lingering melodies build the illusion of frozen wastes and utter despair. It is a mesmerising record that captures you from the off and draws you down into the tale. The way that tempo builds and falls means that you feel you are there with those sailors, trapped in their icy hell. An utter triumph of a record and a highwater mark in musical storytelling.

If Carcass are Metal’s most important band, then “Slaughter of the Soul” is its most important record. A 34-minute tour de force, it brought the savagery of Death Metal and the technical prowess of traditional Metal together in way that 26 years later is yet to be equalled. It is a minimal masterpiece that illustrates the pure ashamed beauty of vibrant Metal.

It also tore the band apart and it was eleven years until they played together again and 19 years until they recorded another album. 2014’s “At War with Reality” and 2017’s “To Drink from the Night Itself” saw them stick pretty close to the style they had perfected over twenty years go. They were both essentially melodic Death Metal albums, full of gigantic riffs and guttural riffs.

With their legacy and pedigree no one was expecting At the Gates to go off and experiment in a whole new genre, but that is exactly what they have done. “The Nightmare of Being” is a daring and ambitious grenade lob of an album, which sees them abandon the safe and secure shallows of repeating the same trick over and over and instead head off into the deep waters of the unfamiliar.

Now, they haven’t gone and made a Venezuelan flute music record but its close. “The Nightmare of Being” is a dark claustrophobic album that sees them slow-down from their usual gallop. The tracks are brooding and full of malignant evil and the guitars creep like vengeful spiders rather than rush towards you at a hundred miles an hour.

But it isn’t just the lack of speed and the lethargic delivery that makes “The Nightmare of Being” such a shift in styles, Tomas Lindberg ditches his trademark death growls for an almost Scott Walker rasped vocal style that sounds sinister and discombobulating. But that is not all, there are saxophones, yes! saxophones! on an At the Gates record. “Heresy!” I hear you cry and normally all of this would get you thrown out the Metal fraternity and your battle jacket ripped up in front of your face.

But you know what? It works, it bloody works. “The Nightmare of Being” is an extraordinary record that has layers upon its layers. For a band that created a game changing album to come back with another one 26 years later is unheard but “The Nightmare of Being” is that good and once again they have single handily moved Heavy Metal’s axis.

Moonspell have been doing what they do for thirty years now and are Portugal’s biggest Heavy Metal band. Huge over there (and in Germany) they are still (three decades down the line) pretty much an unknown quantity over here. This is of course a crying shame as they do what they do really well. Unfairly described in some quarters as a Paradise Lost lite, they are actually a highly atmospheric and endearing act that use their signature blend of goth and Metal to weave resplendent soundscapes.

“Hermitage” is album number twelve and whilst possibly being their most sedate offering, is certainly their most complex and wonderous. This is a beautifully textured album, full of brooding melancholy and smooth soft instrumentation. The aggression is dialled back and instead we get a restrained and contemplative approach that allows “Hermitage”’s melodic side to shine through.

This is a thoughtful and reflective piece of work that does not feel in a great hurry to get anywhere. It uses its dense musical arrangements to paint aural pictures, taking time and care in its composition. Whilst “Hermitage” is packed full of luscious orchestration it never explodes in a flurry of activity. Instead, it is sparing in how its uses its extrovert tendencies, content to be measured and moody rather than spectacular and gregarious. However, the key point is that it sounds divine. Beautifully structured, beautifully presented and an utter joy to listen to.

I have used the term “reinventing the rules of Metal” a lot on this list. In fact, the casual reader would think that every Tom, Dick and Kerry King are busy reinventing the rules on a daily basis. It has become rather “Boy that cried Wolf” in that it probably feels like I am shouting out every other record as being a bold rebirth for this genre. Well in the words of David Coverdale, ‘Here I Go Again’…. “The Work” is a stunning recalibration of a genre that I thought I knew. It is a hive of creativity that takes an art form I was sure I had pretty sussed out and turns it ninety degrees.

The launch pad here is melodic Death Metal but it is so so so much more than that. It twists, it turns, and it continually defies expectation. It is heavy and brittle, but then transmogrifies it something soothing and encapsulating. But rather than be clever for clever’s sake it uses that ever-changing form to create a universe that feels immersive and fully formed. It is an album that drags you in and then surrounds in in ethereal tones that are both recognisable but also new and enticing.

I still can’t get my head around what they are doing with a musical style that I considered to be pretty much nailed down and anchored to the spot. Like a modern-day King Arthur they have moved the unmovable sword and run with it screaming “right we are going to defy conventions and move the goalposts over here”. “The Work” is just incredible. Inventive, unique, peerless and utterly incredible.

Albums released in late November don’t usually fare well on this list. By that point in the year, I have usually pretty much nailed everything into place and I look rather unfavourably at bands that dare to release their new wares so late in the day.

Swallow the Sun are yet another member of the Album of the Year alumni. I knew they had a new record incoming and that it was due for release long after I had planned on closing the list. I hedged my bets and reserved it a berth at number 80 thinking that lightning was not going to strike twice and that there was no way on this good earth that they were going to match the majesty of 2019’s “When a Shadow Is Forced into the Light”. Well, that plan went south pretty darn quickly as they seem to have achieved the impossible and made a record even better than their melancholic masterpiece.

“Moonflowers” continues their treaties on loss and grief. Two years have passed since Juha Raivio documented in wonderous song his emotional journey on losing to cancer his beloved life partner Aleah Stanbridge. In many ways, this is actually a darker, more contorted record. The flashes of redemption and recovery that made “When a Shadow Is Forced into the Light” such an uplifting experience are fewer and further in-between. If its sister work was about recovering from grief, then “Moonflowers” is about living with it.

This is a haunting mournful album that uses a light touch to paint its dark, depressive picture. It illustrates with great sorrowful flourishes the anguish of going on with life without the one you love. That sombre despondence is conveyed with great beauty and grace. This may be intrinsically a sad record, but it still sounds gorgeous and sumptuous. By building on their inspirational use of interspersing light and shade, Swallow the Sun have created a textured tour de force that eclipses anything they have achieved before. Evocative, honest and emotional, this is an absolute triumph, even if it did lead me to have to reorganise my whole bloody countdown.

They hinted at it last time out, but with a wonderful flourish Deafheaven have exited the Blackgaze completely. There is no Metal to be found at all on this record. It is ethereal, haunting shoegaze from the start to the sumptuous finish and it is utterly incredible. This is an intricate, uplifting, engulfing masterpiece of a record. It is so well constructed. Not a note is misplaced, and every chord is utilised. Each and every track is built of layer upon layer of exquisite textured melodies. The music is transcendental and uplifting and just soars out of the speakers.

In many ways, it is not that Deafheaven have stopped doing Metal. What they have done is polished and softened what they were doing before, to the point where it has gained a level of harmonious beauty. They shift is there, but it still sounds like Deafheaven but with rounder cleaner edges.

It seems very simple way of describing it, but every song on “Infinite Granite” sounds utterly divine. I have thrown a lot of hyperbole superlatives around because this is such a special record. It is a luscious, ornate collection of songs that submerges the listener in a sensory overload of gorgeous sound. It is like being bathed in the purest warmest water, an aural explosion that nourishes the soul. Unparalleled.

And we reach the top of the pile. My favourite album of the year. And I will say once again this has been an unparalleled year for decent albums. So this is not just album of the year, but could be in the running for album of the decade.

However, our winner has humble beginnings. Its creator, Employed to Serve, never planned on going back into the studio so soon. They only released their last album, “Eternal Forward Motion” in 2019 and they were only at the foothills of their proposed campaign to prompt it. Then Covid happened, their UK tour was truncated and their European shows abandoned completely. For a young band reliant on the traction and promotional oxygen that consistent touring provides, this was a major body blow. Rather than sit it out and twiddle their thumbs hoping that normality would resume, they decided to get creative (it was either that or Tiger King).

“The Conquering” was written during the first lockdown and then recorded in the short break we were afforded before the second country wide shut down crashed down upon us. The remarkable thing about “The Conquering” is that it sees Employed To Serve radically reassess their sound and go Metal. But this isn’t just a Metal album, it is a definitive statement in Metal. If it was decided tomorrow to disregard the last fifty-one years and to reboot and start Metal up anew, this would be the album used to restart the whole shebang.

It is an extraordinarily coherent and concise record that decides to boil Metal down to its core essence. It is heavy and driving, but has a groove at its heart that makes your feet and fingers twitch. Good Metal should make you feel like you are being possessed by a spirit. It should make you sway, it should make you convulse, it should make you move. This is what this album does extraordinarily well, it burrows into your heart and soul, but also your arms and legs and claims squatters rites.

Every track here is an anthem. They have managed to keep the venomous power that they had as an incendiary hardcore band, but wrap it up in an arena friendly sheen. Employed to Serve are still firing out caustic balls of righteous anger, but they are now refitted with massive choruses and refrains for a thousand voices to scream back at them.

In many ways this is the perfect Metal album. Heavy but accessible, brittle but bombastic, angry but anthemic. Its energy and intent is derived from small clubs but it is built for arenas and stadiums. It is quite simply an astonishing achievement as it is such a complete piece of work. There are no duff notes and no blemishes. Just utter perfection. And very much my album of the year. I’ve been Stewart Lucas, thank you and good night.