Review by Norbert on January 3, 2026.

In the Polish underground metal scene, they're a cult band. A legend. An artistic entity existing since the early 1990s, with a distinctive, inimitable style, whose music holds up to this day, beyond the context of time. Except that's precisely what happened – Christ Agony's style and history aren't a fairy tale about a simple march to glory, but rather a saga of adversities, tangles, disappearances, returns, and controversies that more often concerned the lives around them than the notes themselves. I say "them," but it's worth remembering that although Christ Agony functioned as a band, in practice, almost from the beginning, it was Cezary Augustynowicz's project. This explains both the stylistic continuity and the long-term breaks in activity.

There was also personnel turmoil, breaks, reunions, side projects, and, at one point, albums that some listeners talk about mercilessly (and others remain loyally silent). It was these years that made Christ Agony function more as a name with historical weight than as a band expected not even to deliver further breakthroughs, but even new material. There were fears they wouldn't return. Yet they did – and worse (for skeptics), in a form that forces you to tip off your hat, even if you only wear a hoodie.

Released in September, Anthems – their first album in nine years – works precisely because it doesn't try to pretend it's 1995. This isn't a reenactment of youth, but an album recorded three decades later, fully aware of what has passed – and what can no longer be surpassed. We get six tracks and about forty-five minutes of music in a dark, dense atmosphere, mostly at mid-tempo, with moments of uptempo, but without the edgy need to prove anything with blast beats. Instead, we get a more contemplative Christ Agony: heavy melodies, sultry chords, distinctive riffing, and a mystical aura. Importantly, it all flows naturally, without the impression that someone is forcing the obligatory "trilogy references" into every other bar. There are elements here that reinforce the material's ritualistic nature: keyboard backdrops that build space, discreet folk melodies, episodic male choirs that add majesty, and a didgeridoo—a traditional wind instrument of the Australian Aboriginal people—used on 'Throne Of Eternal Silence.' Production-wise, the whole thing sounds polished and modern, but without being plasticky.

Anthems' greatest strength lies in its recapture of that distinct feeling of unease and fascination with a dark, dense atmosphere that slowly envelops the listener with each passing minute – something always found in Christ Agony's best recordings. This music doesn't attack directly, but gradually draws you in with its cool melody, dense arrangements, and patiently built tension. The vocals are surprisingly good – "like in the old days," in the sense that they have character and manage to carry the mood. Sure, some passages won't appeal to everyone, and there will always be someone who finds the album repetitive at times, but this doesn't change the overall picture: Anthems is Christ Agony's best material in many years, and for some, even their best since Moonlight.

This album confirms that Christ Agony remains one of the few bands in Poland with such a distinct identity. It's not about tempo, riffs, or vocals, but about the way they build narrative and atmosphere, the consistency of their melodies, and that rare ability to create music that's both heavy and flowing. Therefore, their return doesn't sound like a reunion for the sake of reunion, but like a continuation—perhaps belated, perhaps sacrificed for everything along the way, but a true one nonetheless.

Rating: 8.5 out of 10

Review by Felix on November 6, 2019.

A perfect artwork, painted by a French artist of the 19th century, promises a heroic and elegiac album, full of great emotions and wild romance. I possess the third album of Belenos, but honestly speaking, I do not really remember its sound. It was therefore time to discover the music of the French one-man army anew. And believe me, I have already had worse ideas in my life. For example, I was so stupid that I really... well, let's change the subject.

Without any coquetry, I am not a specialist for this kind of Viking / Celtic black metal. This might be the reason why I am slightly surprised to experience that Belenos is not afraid of blast beats. They do not dominate the songs, but their integration alone is something that I did not expect. Among other things, these beats lend the album a death metal aura every now and then. The less aggressive parts remind me a little bit of bands such as Falkenbach or Geist, perhaps inter alia because of the maritime flair of these formations. Yet this is only a rough indication and the rather mellow sections are in the minority. The compositions of Belenos have definitely more metallic belligerence than those of Falkenbach. The earthy production must be mentioned at this point, because it delivers a certain degree of bone-dry brutality. Don't be fooled by the opening title track. It presents a pretty melodic composition which is imbued with dignity and clarity. The majority of the following tracks is not characterized by these traits. They put the emphasis on a harsher, darker and more violent approach.

Monsieur Cellier, the only artist under the banner of Belenos, has written songs that are neither totally incomprehensible nor repetitive. Nonetheless, sometimes it’s challenging for the listener to follow the ideas of the multi-instrumentalist. This challenge is not caused by confusing patterns. Cellier just presents a lot of different elements. His style of singing, for instance, varies constantly. A female voice and male "ooho-hoho" choirs are not missing as well. Inter alia due to these different vocals, the atmosphere of the album commutes between melancholy and fury.

I am undecided whether I should call this album overloaded, but I think it would be a mistake to go that far. However, it's a matter of fact that most tracks rather appear as a rugged coastline instead of distinguishing themselves with a smooth flow. I really like the metallic fundament of the album very much. Even a violin does not hurt the fundamental fury of "E donder ar mor". Unfortunately, this composition suffers from its heterogeneity - and the same applies for further tracks. I admit that I would also appreciate a small number of catchy sections. The opening title track provides evidence that their integration is possible without creating cheesy or commercial sounds. Indeed, if I had the opportunity, I would change a few breaks against some conventionally flowing lines, not only in view of the aforementioned track, but with regard to broad parts of the whole album.

My personal sensitivities aside, this album is made for those who love the entire spectrum of metal-compatible feelings. Unrelenting harshness meets sheer determination and almost sacral sections are not missing as well. The cocktail of death, black and Viking elements leads to a vortex of emotions in its best moments - and sometimes to slightly erratic results, but each and every song reveals the artistic obsession of Cellier. Those who like to have a big dinner should check this work, fans of fast food test the album at their own risk. Yet one thing is for sure: only dorks will say that this output has nothing to offer.

Rating: 6.9 out of 10