MetalMatters: The Best Metal Albums of September 2026

We have entered the busy September period for some of the best metal, and naturally the barrage of excellent releases is increasing. Two heavyweights across two very different fields make a most welcome return, with Archgoat refining their death/black approach, and Justin K. Broadrick using additional material from the Purge sessions to create something completely different. At the same time, the ever-prolific Harri Kuokkanen returns with yet another Hail Conjurer record. Though his yearly output can lead to fatigue, this is definitely not one you want to miss.

Blodtår also delivers new output, continuing their melodic, folk-inspired journey into black metal, and Epitaphe has blossomed from their early extreme death/doom days into an act that bridges Portal with Opeth, much like Terrestrial Hospice combines the Norwegian and Polish black metal traditions. On the other hand, Novae Militiae stand firmly on orthodox black metal ground, while out in left field, Cor de Lux harness post-hardcore and shoegaze through their indie core. Last but certainly not least, Bacht’n de Vulle Moane, on their debut record, propose a hallucinatory trip through black metal and electronica. There is something for everyone this month, so dig in!  

Archgoat – Nightbringer, Lightbringer (Debemur Morti)

The early 1990s saw the proto-black/death metal sound as something to extend or circumvent. Blasphemy looked to push the limits, stretching the sound to its logical endpoint. Beherit took the opposite approach, building an ambient backbone for their black metal expressions. Instead, Archgoat embraced those proto-extreme foundations and built around them. Over the years, their initial bestial presence took on a more varied form. The tempo became less single-minded, the atmosphere matured, and their memorable lead work became increasingly melodic.

This is the contradiction at the heart of Archgoat that continues to this day: their complete dedication to the primal side of extreme metal, while still allowing for gradual change. Their melodic side, especially, has continued to mature. Nightbringer, Lightbringer strikes a difficult balance, adhering to the principles of extreme metal while extending its emotive quality beyond the aggressive and volatile.

Here, there are some outlandish moments, like the unexpectedly smooth, almost classic-rock lead parts in “Reaper of Christianity”, or the clean melodies in “Keys of Hell and Death” amid the martial pacing near the end of the track. However, they excel in tracks like “The Dawn to Apocalypse”, where they harness these hooks toward a melancholic end. The cleaner production brings these elements into focus, keeping them from being buried beneath the guttural vocals and frenzied blastbeats.

The production also helps Archgoat build their eerie ambience. Although they never followed in the footsteps of Beherit, descending into the spiralling depths of industrial and electronic traditions, the ambience plays an important yet understated role. The keyboards are essential here, with their padded, drowned-out melodies sculpting a slithering background for their black/death basis. The sampling is also excellent, with the bells in the title track adding an ominous tone that combines with the eerie lead to craft something cryptically malicious.

While production capabilities, melodic leanings, and atmospheric depth have made strides, the fundamental Archgoat sound remains unchanged, and that is for the best. To that end, Archgoat primarily invoke two primal forces of extreme metal to fit their pacing. On the slower side, they answer the question “What if Celtic Frost did not evolve after Morbid Tales?” Their mid-tempo approach is relentless, each snare hit an explosion in the middle part of “The Stygian Millennium”.

At the other extreme, Archgoat still recall the primal, fast-paced approach of Sarcófago, with its latent thrash and punk aspects coming through. The frenetic energy of “Blood of Jesus Spilling Upon the Earth” brings up this early-days extreme metal perspective, while “Iconoclasm The Nazarene” dives more into the punk-ish undertones with its ragged rhythm.

In short, the pillars that make up the foundation of Archgoat’s sound remain unchanged in Nightbringer, Lightbringer. The novelties of their sound are not flashy or instantaneous. They are the same elements that they have been slowly working on over decades, allowing them to evolve and flourish without ever compromising the foundation beneath them. That is Archgoat’s enduring essence.

Bacht’n de Vulle Moane – Verdwazing der dwazen (Into Endless Chaos / De Pankraker)

It is easy to write off Bacht’n de Vulle Moane as just another industrial black metal band, but that would be doing them a great disservice. Though the Belgian band embraces the frenetic rhythms of Mysticum, their ability to blend them with deep ambient electronica and ferocious lo-fi black metal sets them apart. Their sophomore record, Verdwazing der dwazen, proves it.

One could argue that Verdwazing der dwazen is, at its core, an electronic record steeped in early industrial music, with black metal influences rather than the other way around. Bacht’n de Vulle Moane can dive into fully desolate moments, stripping away electric guitars, cutthroat vocals, and bombastic industrial percussion alike. In this mode, they channel Klaus Schulze, as their synthesisers slowly and meticulously build up a darkened ambience.

These moments feel reclusive, an introspective process toward ill-fated self-discovery, but Bacht’n de Vulle Moane also take a more cosmic approach. “Het Is Nooit Stil” sees them become more expansive, channelling their minimal tendencies not toward ambient electronica but krautrock. The repetitive drum patterns and the quasi-psychedelic melodies evoke the otherworldly expeditions of Neu! and Cluster, revealing a more expressive side.

Whether the moment channels ambient minimalism or kosmische psychedelia, Bacht’n de Vulle Moane adorn it with an eerie quality, derived from their black metal pedigree. Here they take a more austere approach than the Norwegian black metal scene, focusing on the lo-fi fervour of Transilvanian Hunger, but primarily on the decadent, punk-derived visions of Ildjarn. The title track hones the punk energy, with the drums opting for simple patterns that provide a primitive quality. Similarly, “Op Het Einde Van De Boog” applies thick layers of distortion, with the bass in particular taking on a fuzzy character that makes it near indecipherable.

At this intersection, the industrial element becomes the catalyst between black metal and electronica. The mechanical industrial backbone gives the rabid black metal side a colder, more detached perspective, moving closer to the early visions of Mysticum, especially in moments like the second half of “Het Is Nooit Stil”, where they take a more abrasive and in-your-face approach.

However, even there, Bacht’n de Vulle Moane take a more off-kilter path, not viewing the drum machine as a replacement for the drums, but as a distinct instrument in its own right. The opening track, “Dor”, exemplifies this approach, where the bombastic drumming could easily be extracted and reworked into a hardcore techno beat. Bacht’n de Vulle Moane make this interloper somehow work, particularly through its dancefloor-ready rhythm and choice of samples, especially the snare claps.

At a time when pastiche of different sounds and scenes is increasingly common, it is easy to glance over records that only superficially touch on different disciplines. Shoegaze in black metal has become more or less the norm, and the industrial influence on the genre has been present since the genre’s inception. Where Bacht’n de Vulle Moane differs is in their dedication not only to the black metal side, but to the industrial and electronica sides. By arranging Verdwazing der dwazen so that it becomes unclear which element is the foundation, Bacht’n de Vulle Moane prove their experiment has succeeded and, in the process, produced one of the year’s more interesting records.

Blodtår – Monark (Nordvis)

Black metal has many different expressions of folk influence. Some take a more immersive approach, enriching their grim sound with folk instrumentation. Blodtår’s sophomore full-length, Monark, takes the opposite route. Instead of expanding the sonic palette, the Swedish duo look for the structural point where these two traditions meet. They discover that the two traditions converge around the melodic backbone of their music, one that inherits much from traditional heavy metal.

Blodtår are deeply informed by the Swedish black metal scene’s dedication to melodic lines and hooks. Unlike the Norwegian scene’s austere and grim approach, they rely on melody to colour the emotions of their work. To that end, they draw heavily from the early, less extravagant days of Dissection, striking a fine balance in “Till min sista viloplats” between urgency and melancholy.

Despite the frenetic progression and blastbeats, Blodtår colour the scenery with a rich, sorrowful depth that radiates from their guitar lines. The title track reveals a different side of this tradition through its structure. The clean guitar build-up and the eventual incorporation of these parts into the distorted backbone have more in common with Dawn and their approach to song arrangement and evolution.

Where Blodtår differentiate themselves, especially on their new record, is in how they open up melodic Swedish black metal heritage toward a folk application. Their approach here aligns more with Windir, taking folk structures and incorporating them into their black metal sound. It shifts their melodic black metal away from its traditional heavy metal foundation without abandoning its distorted setup or energetic execution. This gives the music a medieval character, best showcased in a track like “Paradis”, where the melodic progression follows the logic of folk music more closely than that of metal. It is a nostalgic take that relishes a long-forgotten past, but updates it for today’s world.

Blodtår excel at this interplay between folk and melodic black metal. Looking at their discography, it feels like they have always strived to reach this point. Their earlier work, though very good, saw black metal and folk run parallel, with few points of intersection. Now, Blodtår’s expression aligns more with how acts like Panphage approached folk influence in black metal, particularly in how they harmonised it with the Swedish melodic tradition. This makes Monark an off-kilter expression that pushes against the tradition not by abandoning melodic black metal, but by questioning where its melodies should originate.

Cor de Lux – Year of the Horse (Ipecac)

Listening to Cor de Lux’s third full-length, Year of the Horse, it is all about flow. It is difficult to engineer a convincing sense of flow, because the transitions between modes and ideas need to feel organic rather than constructed. This is especially challenging when the North Carolina band works with such a wide set of influences, from post-hardcore to noise rock and shoegaze. The impressive feat is that the result doesn’t sound like a stitched-together Frankenstein’s monster, but something they arrived at organically.

At the core is the guitar riffing, channelling Fugazi‘s potent yet delicate approach. Without an abundance of distortion, they build long-form riffs from off-kilter ingredients. The melodies seem straightforward, but the groove doesn’t follow a simple pattern. The start of “Blind Smile” thrives on this approach, seamlessly alternating between softer melodies and harder breakdowns. This is where the movement and energy come from, and it also lays the groundwork for further exploration.

What’s surprising is how readily these same melodic structures can be detached from their post-hardcore origins and translated into something more akin to all-encompassing shoegaze. The frenetic energy and punk underpinnings give way, turning the arrangements into something that resembles Ride. The end of the opening track shows this shift, taking its clean, crisp, to-the-point melodies and stretching them into something longer and more emotional.

From these two extremes, the post-hardcore and shoegaze poles, Cor de Lux can tap into many different sounds. “Ping Pong” sees them take on a heavy indie rock form that owes a lot to Sonic Youth, while “Strawberries” awakens a pop sensibility reminiscent of Blonde Redhead. They can even tap into more abrasive punk themes, with “The Cringe” returning to those roots with a more direct assault, while “The Western” leans into a garage aesthetic, using retro distortion to tie it all together.

Cor de Lux’s success comes from their flow, but also from their ability to operate within a set sonic space while exploring its many expressions. Post-hardcore, punk, shoegaze, indie, and noise rock all interchange in Year of the Horse, but the band’s organic arrangements make it work. The transitions feel less like pre-planned or abrupt shifts and more like natural consequences of what came before, as unlikely as that may seem at times. Cor de Lux navigate this mesh of modes without ever losing the plot, making Year of the Horse feel less like a collision of influences and more like the natural expression of a band that knows how to make them move together.

Epitaphe – III (Aesthetic Death)

France’s Epitaphe are a curious case, because even from their early extreme death/doom days, you could clearly see that the band was guided by ambition. They didn’t simply subscribe to the genre’s slow, monolithic sound; instead, they looked to extend its horizons. Case in point: their debut record, a work that stands firmly on the foundations paved by Esoteric and Evoken, but simultaneously opens it up to the discordant visions of Portal. This makes Epitaphe’s evolution even more surprising, as they have steadily stripped away their death/doom foundation, instead looking for the missing link between the cult-ish death metal of the 2000s and the progressive sound championed by the likes of Opeth.

Their third full-length is solidly founded on the dark, formless death metal that has come to dominate much of the recent underground scene. To that end, they take a relentless approach, blasting through unexpected time signatures, with the start of “Windswept” launching into an erratic tour de force. The guitar arrangements are excellent, heavily layered to create an asphyxiating effect. In these passages, they move closer toward the space inhabited by Chaos echoes, showcasing a more intellectualised form of mystical death metal.

At the same time, Epitaphe have been expanding their progressive inclinations. Their approach to melody and progression is similar to Opeth’s earlier days, and they evoke it in similar ways. The most obvious examples are the introduction, “Half-Light”, and the quieter interlude, “Transient”, which see the group retreat to clean guitars and minimal instrumentation, providing a calmer side to III. They also intersect with their heavy, layered death metal, as in the quasi-improvised parts of “Windswept” that offer a bit of calm amid the ongoing storm.

Epitaphe executes these two modes superbly, but if they were disjointed, III wouldn’t stand out. Epitaphe shine in how it incorporates these distinct motifs organically. The first half of “Spring Frost” is the perfect example of this exercise in balance, where the timbre and execution align with the cavernous and depraved aspects of an Abyssal record. Meanwhile, their melodies echo with the same sense of wonder that Still Life did. It is a two-way street: it makes their dissonant side more palatable while giving their progressive inclinations more weight and substance.

III may have little in common on the surface with Epitaphe’s early death/doom, but that history is precisely what makes its current direction work. The band has retained the genre’s sense of atmosphere, progression, and scale and applied them to their hybrid dissonant and progressive death metal approach.

Godflesh – Decay (Relapse)

The trajectory of Godflesh was always non-linear. After releasing one of their most experimental records, Post Self (2017), Broadrick and Green returned to the sound of 1992’s Pure. Their 2023 record Purge was a full-on resurrection of Pure, harnessing the same hip-hop grooves and jungle breakbeats that made their sophomore record stand out. The material in Decay stems from the Purge recording sessions, but it is in no way a collection of rehashed ideas or discarded material. Instead, it serves as the connective tissue between Godflesh‘s industrial core and their experimental tendencies.

The spine of Decay relies heavily on the immediate, pummelling sound that defined Godflesh. “Living / Ending” channels the incredible precision of their synthetic percussion, but enhances its impact through hip-hop grooves that collide with hardcore and even sludge breakdowns. This is Godflesh’s point of origin: the physical impact their music has always carried.

Yet the music’s physicality can also serve as a pathway to an otherworldly expression. In Purge, this was isolated in specific tracks, like “Lazarus Leper”, but Decay extends this. For example, “Feral Colony” pulls back the industrial application in favour of a krautrock methodology, where the feral vocals turn clean and alien-like, and the repetitive drum patterns follow the more fluid kosmische musik tradition. These slight alterations, the changes from heavier grooves toward more fluid progressions, are central to Decay, and they lead to its most substantial shift from Purge.

Decay‘s four central tracks follow this motif, retaining the industrial basis while finding alternative means of expression. The bookends, however, follow a different path. This is where Godflesh unchain their ambient self, producing hypnotic passages that emphasise immersion over physicality. “Master and Slave” achieves this end through the repetitive structures that recall post-punk and no-wave mechanics. The progression feels less rigid here; the drumming is looser while the towering bass guitar devours the space.

The closing track, “Consume Me”, extends this idea to its logical conclusion, where the distorted vocals and the off-kilter synthesisers radiate a sense of cosmic dread. It carries the same post-apocalyptic essence as Streetcleaner, but instead of the ever-burning fires of the 1990s, Decay shows a world already in ashes.

Decay displays the creative depths of Godflesh. Starting from material conceived during the Purge sessions, Broadrick and Green have worked it into something more substantial than a companion piece. The record not only shows the different sides of Godflesh, but also how they can interweave with one another. Its brilliance lies in how it works between phases, connecting the band’s industrial identity with the more out-there inclinations that have guided them throughout their career.

Hail Conjurer – Abyss & Ekstasis (Into Endless Chaos / Crypt of the Wizard)

Throughout their prolific career, Hail Conjurer have never reduced black metal to the simple adaptation of a template. Their discography instead reveals an aesthetic continuity that respects Beherit’s experimentation with ambient music and Barathrum’s incorporation of doom into black metal, without simply rehashing either tradition. Harri Kuokkanen instead makes these ideas his own. This results in a sound built around three fundamental principles: atmosphere, weight, and ambition. These have remained the constants throughout Hail Conjurer’s discography, and they remain firmly in place on Abyss & Ekstasis.

Starting with their interpretation of weight and gloom, Abyss & Ekstasis kicks off with what could be one of the finest doom metal moments of the year with “Unheimlich”. Hail Conjurer aren’t approaching doom as something merely destructive and heavy, but rather as a means of awakening the epic character of their music through a pensive tone. As a drummer, Kuokkanen emphasises rhythmic progression more than conventional riff structure. The result is hypnotic, with the track’s timbral character drifting between sorrow and grandeur, much like the dichotomy suggested by the record’s title.

Despite the amorphous presentation of doom metal, Hail Conjurer showcase a keen interest in the more classic side of heavy metal. This is where their ambition becomes apparent. They do not follow in the footsteps of Finnish and Greek black metal acts that found a similar attachment to classic metal principles and refused to sacrifice them for the amorphous tremolo-picked riffing that dominated the 1990s. They share the same vision, but take different routes.

The trajectory of the record in that regard is well thought out, with “Ecstasy of the Flesh” colliding the sound of Black Sabbath with a Celtic Frost groove, before “Nocturnal Ardour” introduces a stoner-like riff balancing between Monster Magnet and Danzig, before finally giving way to “Golden Pages of Contempt” to appear with the most classic heavy metal riff of the record. While the influences span heavy metal’s history, Hail Conjurer’s approach never feels like an exercise in genre-fitting. Kuokkanen appears to assemble whatever sounds interest him. In the past, this has not always worked out for Hail Conjurer, but in the context of Abyss & Ekstasis it does wonders.

The same is true of the album’s ambient passages. Rather than rehashing the mystical quality of Drawing Down the Moon or the despairing essence of Hvis Lyset Tar Oss, Hail Conjurer push further into psychedelic territory. The synthesisers take advantage of the slow pace, while the repetitive drumming casts a hallucinatory spell. This naturally folds into the heavy riffs of “Ecstasy of Flesh”, but the approach is at its most effective in the record’s interludes.

“Maan Kiima” establishes a krautrock-like trance, its fluid progression making the transitions feel almost effortless, while “Staring at the Sun” descends into complete noise dissolution, closer to Merzbow than black metal. These applications complete Hail Conjurer’s uniquely off-kilter character, pushing the band away from the eerie and sorrowful, and toward something altogether otherworldly and alien.

Abyss & Ekstasis ultimately succeeds in preserving and refining the Hail Conjurer form. All the elements Kuokkanen channels here have been core components of his sound since the group’s early days. The difference is that they operate better together this time around. The improved production lets the intricacies of the arrangements shine, while the movement between ambient passages, heavy riffs, and malicious black metal feels more natural than before. Hail Conjurer have spent years pulling apart the boundaries between these sounds, and on Abyss & Ekstasis they finally seem to have found the juxtaposition where these can co-exist.

Novae Militiae – Apocryphon of the Unborn Light (Serpent Sun)

Novae Militiae’s vision of orthodox black metal has not changed through the years; it has just been sharpened in their third full-length, Apocryphon of the Unborn Light. As the short introduction to “Psalms of the Nameless Fires” dies out, you come face to face with the full, devastating form of the French band. Heavily layered guitars work together to form an impenetrable wall of sound, a place that is asphyxiating and inescapable.

The discordant parts coalesce into something almost formless, creating an overwhelming sense, as if you are in the presence of something so vast it is impossible to understand. As the record progresses, familiar ideas begin to emerge, raising the question of whether Novae Militiae are simply following a prescribed style or trying to make it their own.

It is easy to trace Novae Militiae’s core aesthetic back to fellow French acts, especially later Antaeus and Aosoth. And even though this basis does not deviate much, certain distinctions appear. Their structures radiate a cold bleakness that follows the calculated structural precision of Blut Aus Nord, giving their progressions a sense of inevitability. This structural precision adds weight to tracks like “Beneath the Sealed Heavens”, where slower, crushing passages interrupt the blasting procession. This element was already present on Gash’khalah and Topheth, but it sounds better worked out this time around.

True to the trademark traits of the French orthodox black metal scene, Novae Militiae, like Deathspell Omega, tends to descend into clean, discordant moments. In essence, this is a mutation of the Ved Buens Ende formula, reduced to its most serpentine qualities in “Scourge of the Dawnless Throne”. This psychedelic inclination is where the band’s ritualistic element becomes more apparent. And it is also where they deviate from their prescribed aesthetic, as they take on the same psychedelic energy and embed it within their harsher parts. This moves closer to the Icelandic scene, and especially the works of Skaphe.

Novae Militiae do not stray far from the path laid out by the stalwarts of the French black metal scene, but it is difficult not to like Apocryphon of the Unborn Light. The record distils many of orthodox black metal’s defining qualities into a condensed form. The overwhelming sense of an assault, its cold and precise strikes, and also the innately elusive and hallucinogenic nature. So yes, there is not much novelty to be found here. Still, Novae Militiae have produced a work made of the finest components of their established sound, and they have ever so slightly extended it, whether through the Icelandic influence or the occasional traces of Ulcerate’s approach. And that is enough.

Terrestrial Hospice – Omnicide: Chapter I (Edged Circle)

Terrestrial Hospice’s third full-length, Omnicide – Chapter I, much like their preceding releases, embraces the second-wave black metal tradition. The Polish duo subscribe to the era’s confrontational black metal, defined by exhilarating speed and discordance, but without forgetting that the same eerie elements can also create an immersive atmosphere. The acoustic passage of “Phosphoric Salvation” creates the same dark magic, producing a pensive but resolute moment. Similarly, the eerie guitar remains central, applying the long-form, tremolo-picked technique that defined much of the genre. The closing of “Call of the Void” inhabits this same space, with its slow, slithering riffs conjuring an infernal quality.

At times, this devotion to the genre could backfire, pushing Terrestrial Hospice into a corner of nostalgia and simple regurgitation. Carrying the stylistic DNA of Gorgoroth and Urgehal could itself result in a one-dimensional rendition. However, Terrestrial Hospice holds a broader view of the genre that lets them escape that predicament. The first distinction comes through their links to the Polish black metal scene, which provides a more muscular counterpart to the dissonant and eerie methods, especially when they slow down in “Depraver (Black Invocation)” and settle into a heavier groove.

At the same time, they are also unafraid to touch upon the majestic side of 1990s black metal, but they do it in a non-obvious manner. Their melodic moments and keyboard use are informed by mid-period Abigor and very early Dimmu Borgir releases, giving them more hooks and a more immersive experience.

Most importantly, they don’t get caught up in an ill-thought-out reach for authenticity. They don’t delude themselves by adopting raw, lo-fi production aesthetics. The production fits not only the spirit of black metal, but also its execution. They do not treat the low-end as something abhorrent, instead allowing the bass to establish the driving pulse in moments like “Drowning Spirit”, especially alongside the faster drumming. They don’t tone down their technical ability for the sake of feeling.

Listening to Omnicide, you hear two musicians who are at the top of their game, never being flashy to the extent of jeopardising their songwriting, but just enough to make things more volatile. The drumming patterns in “The Couloir of Despair” are a perfect example, as the meticulous cymbal work enhances the steamroller rendition.

In many ways, Omnicide makes a similar proposition to Archgoat’s Nightbringer, Lightbringer. It is deeply embedded in the black metal tradition, understanding it fully and wanting to do it justice, just as Archgoat approaches the proto-death and proto-black metal sound. Similarly, Terrestrial Hospice refuse to become hostage to the throwback exercise, pretending that they are still operating as if it were the 1990s. They were there; they have done that with their other projects. Now, they take on decades of experience and bring it into the present. That makes Omnicide much more than a throwback. It applies the original black metal vision through today’s means.