Review by Greg on October 11, 2025.

Those who happen to have read my opinion on something at least once will know that I'm an easy guy to please, but a tough one to completely, unreservedly, 100% satisfy. I reckon I might be excessively nitpicky, or oftentimes that annoying 'great album but here's the one thing I would change to make me like it even more' kind of person. Yet, I did my best to keep a tight rein on my unrequired advice when I was exposed to Critical Defiance's then-latest No Life Forms, back in 2022, since they did such an egregious job at pulverizing my skull and grey matter through sheer force that they convinced me their mission statement was 'simply' that. Now, guess what? Those little Chilean rascals ended up doing exactly what my subconscious was pondering back then, and then some, with their brand-new The Search Won't Fall. And well, what can I say... only at the third spin of the album was I able to gather and collect some thoughts, instead of simply gazing at my PC screen with a blank, defiant stare and nodding my head at variable speeds for the whole 45 minutes.

If you allow me a more dated South-American analogy, The Search Won't Fall could be considered the new millennium counterpart to those unpredictable second albums of the '80s forefathers (and bear with me on the fact that this is, indeed, their third effort). Whereas No Life Forms could be the coarse, explosive first step, The Search Won't Fall has a wildly different vision, with the crucial difference that this one is more along the lines of, say, The Laws of Scourge, rather than inexplicable trainwrecks like Holocausto's Blocked Minds or Attomica's Limits of Insanity – meaning that it doesn't negate the previous release but builds upon its sound, honing and expanding it to the point of turning it into something more interesting, without the need for any unnecessary U-turns. However, at no point does it feel like the band is starting to sound pretentious or technical to a fault, and certainly at no point do Critical Defiance convey the idea of softening their attitude – should you ever worry about it! – we're just witnessing the same efficient band who wrote 'A World Crumbling Apart' having built greater confidence and awareness, deciding to marry that barbaric approach with newfound ambitions, basically striking gold in the same field where actual debut Misconception seemed to reach too far for its grasp.

"How come, then, that I see three tracks exceeding 6 minutes, and one nearing 10?", you might be asking. Simply put, The Search Won't Fall was written with the same twisted vision that brought us Idolatry, Spectrum of Death, and similar relics of those long-gone times when you could furiously and continuously riff for 7 minutes straight and sound awesome in the process. No pseudo-intellectual detours, no wanky flourishes, no atmospheric intermezzos (no more than the couple of short acoustic snippets that ominously bookend the title-track, at least), no ANYTHING, just pummeling riff after riff after riff, until morale improves. Said title-track inaugurates the album with more killer riffs in its first 2 minutes than entire albums have (something I like to call the 'Narcotic Mirage factor', after the legendary track by Danish thrashers Battery). The first trio is actually a succession of methodical, brutal masterpieces unheard since the 'Deliver the Suffering' to 'Forsaken Hatred' stint. Other personal favourite 'Long Distance (The What's to Come)', despite its almost traditionally inclined riff introducing it, is even a step above in terms of brutality, with frequent blasts that will surely be an endurance test for any drummer (not to mention, neck), and a central section that somehow always makes me feel like I'm in the middle of the unsettling Escherian artwork. 'Helpless World' has that Invicta's 'Battle the Beyond'-esque recurring riff that gives it a different character, amidst the merciless, unstoppable bludgeoning, as well as the most vertiginous refrain I've heard in quite some time. Along with the efficient '44 Minds', it's a fuckin' 10/10 first half, plain and simple.

With all the rest of the lineup intact, you gotta believe new recruit Nicolás Young made quite the impact, after having served (and shredded) for equally outstanding thrashers Demoniac, and currently lending his services to Ripper, among countless other bands. And holy fuck does Felipe Alvarado manage to grow angrier and angrier as years go by. His terrible English is an afterthought when put against the outright visceral fury he exhibits. I'm really curious to see what the hell he does before entering the recording booth, and whether it includes getting in a barroom brawl or simply reading the everyday news. But really, everybody has stepped up their game, as none of this would have been even remotely attainable if drummer Rodrigo Poblete didn't follow suit – indeed, he's impressively tight even at the most extreme pace, and sounds constantly on the verge of doing something unexpected. In this regard, I'm starting to view him as the spiritual successor to Sadus' incredible (and also a scumbag, regrettably) Jon Allen. Actually, scratch that, the whole band's a fucking unstoppable obliterating machine that knows exactly what it's doing, and yet sometimes pushes itself slightly beyond its limits and its own total control, and that might just be what makes Critical Defiance so. dangerous. That, along with the anachronistically self-empowering lyrics, as well as the muffled, organic production, makes The Search Won't Fall the most authentic thrash album I've heard in ages, and I've heard a lot of ones I love.

And yet, circling back to the opening paragraph, here I go back to my weapon of choice – but really, it's not like the guys made it difficult to do so. Indeed, the middle of the tracklist is schizophrenia personified. Between the calming and uplifting arpeggios of 'Margarita', almost powerviolence moments (sure, not that the average No Life Forms song was much longer than that), and literal dogs barking at one point (you can safely guess in which song, I'd say), I had many questions on my mind, and most of them started with the word 'why'. They proceed to wipe it all away with another riffy mammoth, which is also their namesake song, but that makes it even more puzzling. I don't need to say that a side B of an equal, or comparable, level to side A would have resulted in an even higher rating, that's for sure. Really, I sound this pissed because I was genuinely convinced I was nearing more and more towards a perfect score, so here's where minor details start to matter.

On the upside, this is really as far as my complaints about The Search Won't Fall go. It's one of those albums that set a new standard for thrash in my mind, and will forever be remembered by me as a golden standard for the genre. If you catch somebody dismissing it because of the production, take it as a good example of how far we've fallen as a species.

Once again, my only certainty in life: Chile rules the world.

Rating: 9.4 out of 10

Review by Dominik on December 28, 2024.

I am sure we can agree that there's no shortage of clichés when it comes to nostalgia: "A trip down memory lane", "Gone but not forgotten", to name just two. But reminiscence is also a dangerous thing. It can turn otherwise rational people into the kind of sentimental saps who believe everything was better back when cereal boxes had toys, and no one knew how to spell "gluten-free". Aphelium Aeternum's debut album, Dark Interstellar Mysteries, wades chest-deep in these waters, delivering what can only be described as the sonic equivalent of a sepia-toned photograph. Each chord, each riff is like a faded image, evoking the past with a wistful, weathered warmth. As if a vintage jukebox plays eternally in a symphonic black metal diner lost to time, their music reverberates with a certain charm of a bygone era.

But let's not get too misty-eyed. The music is undeniably steeped in the past, a love letter to the early days of symphonic black metal when a Casio keyboard and a dream were all you needed to sound "epic". But nostalgia is a double-edged sword, and while Dark Interstellar Mysteries aims to revive the magic of symphonic black metal's earlier experiments, it often stumbles over the weight of its own longing. The production, for starters, is unbalanced—subpar, to be blunt. If Trump were reviewing it on "X", he might say, "It's the worst. Everyone knows it. The worst production. SAD! I will find this sound engineer and send him back to Mexico, family and all. And then my D.O.G.E (Department of Obedient Grinning Entities or was it Department of Ongoing Goofiness Enforcement?) chief (was it E-lawn Musk or Elon Bust?) will down-size all recording studios. GREAT!". The keyboards often dominate in an almost overwhelming manner, drowning out everything else with their aggressive presence. When the tempo picks up, the drums buzz faintly in the background, more akin to the hum of an antique sewing machine on its last legs than the driving force of a proper rhythm section. At times, particularly during slower passages, the keyboards are abruptly "removed from the equation", allowing the other instruments to push into your auditory passage with unexpected intensity. What could have been an exciting shift is instead wrapped in dull and muddy production, taking away much of the potential fun.

We humans are adaptable creatures, capable of getting used to just about anything—whether it's watching other people cook instead of cooking ourselves or dipping fries in ice cream like it's perfectly normal. Eventually, you adjust to the fact that the album is front-loaded. What remains hard to shake, however, is the nagging suspicion, this tiny voice telling me, that parts of the album are blatant copies—or perhaps copies of copies—of something frustratingly familiar. I can't quite place it now, but I'm sure the realization will hit me the moment this review goes live.

Still, the album isn't without its moments. Once you sat through the intro, the title track starts strong with a compelling melody—although the keyboards quickly overshadow the guitars, dragging the listener straight into a dusty attic of musical memories. From a compositional standpoint, the song ticks all the right boxes, blending high velocity with some well-placed tempo shifts. But the production issues make it sometimes hard to appreciate through headphones, where every shift in dynamics feels like a slap to the eardrums.

'Spiritual Journey to the Arcane Cosmos' continues the trend, showcasing the band's ability to craft solid, if somewhat familiar, symphonic black metal. It's maddingly derivative—I'll swear I've heard it before, but still the source of the déjà vu remains elusive. The vocals fit the track well, but though consistent, they lack variety, and the guitars again seem to be clawing for survival under the oppressive weight of the keyboards.

And then we arrive at the 'Event Horizon', an instrumental interlude that splits the album into its stronger and weaker halves. Unfortunately, this is one of those superfluous tracks that feels more like filler than an essential part of the album. See it as a perfect opportunity to grab a snack. The second half rehashes much of what came before, albeit with a little less inspiration. It feels like the reheated leftovers of the album's first half, a microwave meal of recycled riffs and tired arrangements as if the band ran out of fresh ideas.

The exception is 'Into the Timeless Abyss'. Here, especially during the slower parts, the keyboards settle into a more upbeat and balanced role, complementing rather than overwhelming the rest of the band. It's a fleeting glimpse of what Dark Interstellar Mysteries could have been with a sharper focus and better production. Unfortunately, the album ends on a whimper, with a lackluster outro and a pre-closing track that can't decide whether it wants to be an instrumental or a fully realized song.

Yet, for all its flaws, Dark Interstellar Mysteries has a strange charm. It's an album tailor-made for those of us who remember the days when symphonic black metal wasn't just an overproduced arms race of orchestration. There's something endearing about the imperfections, and the obvious love for the genre's roots—even if it's all wrapped in a production quality that makes you wonder if the sound engineer was actively sabotaging the band.

Rating: 77 out of 100, because the music does the job well enough, even if it's bogged down by production issues. Add a three points nostalgia bonus for taking me back to the days when symphonic black metal didn't need seven orchestras and a movie budget.