What If You Didn’t Let the Algorithm Pick Your Next Album?
Start here instead: a hand‑picked rundown of 11 new releases, with side quests into Agitation Free’s 1972 desert trip and KMFDM’s twice‑born industrial classic.
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Agitation Free: The Album Nobody Remembers (But Tangerine Dream Does)
Ever stumble on an album cover in a dusty record bin and think, “I have to know what this sounds like”? That goldish sleeve with four longhaired dudes perched in what looks like a pyramid or mountain, somewhere between ancient ruins and a desert mirage? You’d buy it, wouldn’t you? You’d have no idea if it was recorded in 2026 or 1971, but you’d take it …
New Releases
Converge – Love Is Not Enough
Converge are the band people usually mean when they say “chaotic hardcore” and point reverently at Jane Doe. They sit in that jagged space between hardcore, metal, and noise—whiplash tempo changes, riffs like buildings collapsing in real time, and Jacob Bannon’s paint‑peeling scream over everything. If you’ve never heard them, imagine a hardcore band recorded like a jazz group: tight, improvisational energy, but absolutely feral.
The twist with Love Is Not Enough is that, after the doom‑soaked experimentation of Bloodmoon, they didn’t get weirder—they got leaner. It’s 36 minutes of Converge going full‑tilt, tracked to feel raw and “live” instead of surgically polished.
What’s working: outlets like The Razor’s Edge and Boolin Tunes are calling it their most urgent, bruising material in years, with love for the back-half slow-burners like “Gilded Cage” and “Force Meets Presence.” The Sleeping Shaman frames it as a masterclass in modern hardcore from the people who wrote the syllabus, and fans on r/Metalcore are tossing around “best since Axe to Fall.”
What’s not: some writers at places like The Soundboard and Boolin Tunes point out that if you fell hard for the expanded palette on Bloodmoon, this might feel almost conservative. The closer doesn’t quite hit the emotional supernova some of the buildup hints at, and if Converge have always sounded like chaos soup to you, this is not the one that suddenly becomes easy listening.
The Hellacopters – Cream Of The Crap! Collected Non-Album Works, Vol. 3
The Hellacopters were part of that late‑’90s/early‑’00s garage rock revival alongside bands like The Hives and Gluecifer—but with more classic rock swagger and Detroit grease in the mix. The sound is loud guitars, big, simple riffs, and hooks that feel like lost ’70s singles cranked through punk amps. If you’re new to them, think AC/DC meets The Stooges meets Thin Lizzy, played just a bit too fast.
Cream of the Crap! Vol. 3 is catnip for fans: 24 non‑album tracks from 1995–2004 finally pulled from out‑of‑print 7-inches, EPs, and comps into one place. It’s basically someone digitizing the rare‑vinyl collection you wish you had.
What’s working: Markus’ Heavy Music Blog calls it a “brilliant third chapter,” praising how these B‑sides and covers (Motörhead, MC5, Lynyrd Skynyrd, and more) could have easily carried full albums. Obliveon and Tinnitist lean into the “treasure chest” angle: if you already love this band, it’s a parade of “how was this not on a record?” moments.
What’s not: it’s still a rarities compilation. The tracklist is long, the fidelity swings from studio‑sharp to lo‑fi, and the flow’s more “jukebox” than “album.” If you’re trying to figure out whether The Hellacopters are your thing at all, this is bonus footage, not the pilot episode.
Beck – Everybody’s Gotta Learn Sometime EP
Beck is the guy who gave us “Loser” and then spent three decades treating genre like a thrift store—funk collage, sad folk, sleek pop, you name it. Underneath all that shape‑shifting is a singer‑songwriter with a dry, slightly weary voice and a knack for twisting familiar songs into bittersweet, sideways versions of themselves.
On Everybody’s Gotta Learn Sometime, he doesn’t reinvent anything. He curates. It’s an eight‑track mixtape of covers and soundtrack cuts spanning years: his haunting 2004 cover of The Korgis’ title track from Eternal Sunshine, a tender “Can’t Help Falling in Love,” “Ramona” from Scott Pilgrim, plus Hank Williams and Daniel Johnston songs dressed up in strings and soft acoustics. Sonically, it’s Beck in intimate mode—late‑night, mostly acoustic or orchestral, like a friend pulling their favorite weird love songs for you.
What’s working: Comm Failure calls it “a curated history of how people keep believing in love anyway,” emphasizing how the sequencing tells a story more than the individual tracks do. Spill Magazine says it “feels like a mixtape of yesteryear,” while Bourbon & Vinyl and Rock Cellar highlight just how good his voice and arrangements are when he’s not trying to be clever.
What’s not: multiple reviews—including Spill and Music Scene Media—flag that this is very mellow. If you come to Beck for funky beats or genre‑mashup chaos, this plays more like a beautifully sequenced epilogue than a “new era.” Some fans on Reddit threads like r/popheads slot it as “lovely but minor”—great for a mood, not a headline.
Story of the Year – A.R.S.O.N.
Story of the Year were part of that early‑2000s wave where post‑hardcore, emo, and pop‑punk kept bumping into each other at Warped Tour. Think big, earnest choruses; chunky stop‑start riffs; and just enough screaming to feel cathartic without tipping into full metalcore. If you remember “Until the Day I Die,” that’s the blueprint. If you don’t, imagine Thrice and early Rise Against hanging out with the more dramatic side of pop‑punk.
On A.R.S.O.N. (short for “All Rage, Still Only Numb”), they lean into being older, angrier, and, somehow, heavier. The riffs are beefed up, the production is modern punch‑you‑in‑the‑chest loud, and Dan Marsala toggles between melodic singing and full‑bore screaming like a guy who has been yelling about his feelings for 20 years and refuses to stop now.
What’s working: You Make The Scene praises Marsala’s range and the band’s refusal to chase trends, while Punktastic calls it their strongest release in at least a decade. Ethereal Metal Zine hears a band that’s finally figured out how to make “grown‑up post‑hardcore” without losing the spark. On r/poppunkers, people are openly surprised at how much they still care about a 2000s band dropping a new record in 2026.
What’s not: The Soundboard lands around “solid but not revelatory”—good songs, a lot of heart, but not quite a reinvention. Reddit chatter calls out “Gasoline” as a weaker cut, and some folks feel like a few choruses blur into each other. If you never connected with Story of the Year in their heyday, this might register as “pretty good modern post‑hardcore” more than something that demands your time.
Puscifer – Normal Isn’t
Puscifer is where Maynard James Keenan goes to get weird. If Tool is the labyrinth and A Perfect Circle is the confession booth, Puscifer is the dark, smirking art‑rock cabaret out back. Sonically, it’s a mix of electronic beats, fuzzy bass, twangy desert guitars, and duet vocals with Carina Round. Think goth‑adjacent trip‑hop that occasionally mutates into a heavy rock band.
Normal Isn’t pushes that palette into more overtly political, “everything is broken” territory, with a noticeable lean toward goth and post‑punk textures. The grooves are thick, the sarcasm is dialed up, and there’s a real sense that Maynard is processing the present day in real time.
What’s working: Sonic Perspectives loves the interplay between Maynard and Carina and singles out Danny Carey’s guest spots as a major draw. Arts Fuse calls it a “dance through the new abnormal,” praising how the band uses electronics and satire without losing musical heft. Rock DNA Magazinehears classic Puscifer with strong A Perfect Circle vibes, and Smells Like Infinite Sadness frames it as their most confrontational, cohesive statement yet. Over on r/ToolBand, a lot of fans are in the “each listen gets better” camp.
What’s not: that same Reddit thread is full of “it’s good, not mind‑blowing” takes too. Some listeners feel the songs blend together without huge standout moments, and even positive reviews like Out Of The Blue Magazine warn that the snark and genre‑hopping will turn off anyone hoping for a more straightforward rock record. If you’re allergic to Maynard being cheeky, this might land as “interesting homework” rather than a favorite.
KMFDM – ENEMY
KMFDM are industrial rock lifers—the “Ultra Heavy Beat” people who helped define what the genre sounded like when it wasn’t trying to clone Nine Inch Nails. The blueprint is stiff, mechanical drum loops; distorted, chugging guitars; shouted, slogan‑style vocals; and grooves built for stomping more than headbanging. If you’re new, think Rammstein with more electronics and less theatrics.
On ENEMY, there’s a bit of a generational shift: new guitarist Tidor Nieddu brings fresh tone and phrasing, and Annabella Konietzko steps up as both vocalist and songwriter, especially on the standout “YOÜ.” There’s even a rare instrumental cut, “Gun Quarter Sue,” that plays like Kansas on industrial steroids.
What’s working: Andrew L. Hicks hears a genuine evolution, calling the opening stretch a payoff for 40+ years of stubborn growth. Moshville Times highlights the title track’s mix of biting riffs and big hooks, while Acta Infernalis digs the record’s heavier, thrashier corners. Igloo Magazine basically says: this is KMFDM doing what they do best—the grooves hit, the guitars slice, and the choruses lodge in your brain.
What’s not: Igloo also notes that some of the political sloganeering feels like a rerun, recycling ideas the band’s been hammering since the ‘90s without always sharpening them for 2026. On r/KMFDM, fans praise the overall consistency but admit the energy dips toward the end. If KMFDM albums tend to blur together for you after track six, this one probably won’t change your mind—though it might remind you why you liked them in the first place.
Big Big Train – Woodcut
Big Big Train are modern British prog in the most classic sense: long songs, pastoral imagery, and a deep love of storytelling that cares as much about emotional payoff as musicianship. The sound lives somewhere between early Genesis, Peter Gabriel and classic rock—warm guitars, melodic bass, vintage keys, brass flourishes, and arrangements that slowly swell from gentle to cinematic.
Woodcut is a big statement: their first full‑blown concept album, telling the story of a disillusioned artist over 16 tracks and about an hour of music. The kicker is that new frontman Alberto Bravin doesn’t just sing—he produced and helped stitch together hundreds of ideas from seven band members into one coherent narrative.
What’s working: The Prog Report loves the “web of musical and lyrical cross‑references,” the kind of thing that rewards front‑to‑back listening and nerdy deep dives. Sonic Perspectives praises Bravin’s impact—songwriting, arranging, and multi‑instrumental work that pulls the band tighter. Last Riteshighlights the closing “Last Stand” as a perfect convergence of every theme and motif, and multiple reviews shout out Rikard Sjöblom’s riffs for nudging the band closer to outright rock and even metal in spots.
What’s not: it’s a lot. An hour of concept‑prog about artistic burnout is a big ask if you’re used to dropping in for a track or two. Some fan chatter (including a widely shared Facebook review) notes that the introspective tone and length can make it a “set aside time” record rather than something you casually throw on. If you liked Big Big Train best when they were a bit more immediately melodic and less conceptual, this might feel heavy in more ways than one.
Karnivool – In Verses
Karnivool are prog‑metal for people who want their brains and hearts equally wrecked. They sit somewhere between Tool’s atmosphere, Deftones’ dynamics, and post‑hardcore’s emotional pull: glassy clean guitars that erupt into thick, distorted walls, tricky rhythms, and Ian Kenny’s soaring, precise vocals riding on top. For new ears, picture “smart heavy” that prioritizes mood and melody over constant shredding.
After a 13‑year wait, In Verses takes a surprising path: instead of trying to out‑heavy their past, they slow down and breathe. The songs are more patient, more atmospheric, and occasionally more devastating for it—tracks like “Conversations” and “Aozora” stretch out into vast emotional spaces.
What’s working: The Moshville Times praises it as “shaped by time rather than urgency,” an album that reveals new layers with each listen. Fox Reviews Rock calls it a must‑hear for prog‑metal fans, and The Progressive Subway singles out drummer Steve Judd’s performance and the band’s use of dynamics. The Prog Mind hears a band maturing into a more reflective version of themselves, while Metal Academy and r/progmetal comments call tracks like “Animation” and “Remote Self Control” “primo Karnivool.”
What’s not: the patience won’t work for everyone. Fox and Metal Academy both point out that a couple of songs feel like they overstay their welcome, drifting instead of building. Kerrang!’s angle (mirrored in some fan reactions) is that it’s an album of massive highlights with some murky connective tissue. If your favorite Karnivool moments are the immediate gut‑punches from Sound Awake, you might need to recalibrate your expectations here.
Mayhem – Liturgy of Death
Mayhem are one of black metal’s original chaos merchants—early records defined the template: icy tremolo riffs, blast beats, and vocals that sounded like someone screaming from another dimension. The difference now is that they’ve somehow become a stable band; this lineup has lasted longer than almost any they’ve had.
Liturgy of Death leans into that maturity. Instead of shock tactics, it treats death as a philosophical and spiritual thread, with lyrics in Latin, Norwegian, and English and nods to religious architecture and ancient texts. Sonically, it’s still cold and aggressive, but there are organs, choral textures, and a sense of deliberate, ritualistic pacing.
What’s working: Metal Insider hears one of their most conceptually rich records, using brutality to explore the fragility of life. The Quietus digs the irony of using church‑like sounds as anti‑church weapons. New Noise Magazine and HarshVocals praise the opener and closer in particular, and multiple reviews note that Attila Csihar’s vocals remain the band’s most unsettling instrument. On r/MetalForTheMasses, the take is basically “this is exactly what you want modern Mayhem to be.”
What’s not: Mystification Zine and Angry Metal Guy both call out a saggy middle section—good black metal, but not always distinct in a crowded scene. Some fans miss the wild, risky experimentation of Grand Declaration of War and wish they’d lean weirder again. If you come to Mayhem for pure unpredictability, this feels more like refined menace than chaos.
Wolverine – Anomalies
Wolverine started out in heavier prog‑metal territory but have gradually slid toward the melancholic art‑rock space—mid‑tempo, atmospheric, emotionally heavy songs where guitars, keys, and vocals all serve the mood more than the riff count. If you like Katatonia or Anathema’s softer side, this is the neighborhood.
Anomalies comes with a cool bit of history: three songs—“A Perfect Alignment,” “Circuits,” and “A Sudden Demise”—were salvaged from a concept album they abandoned 20 years ago. That unfinished story lingers under the surface, giving the album a haunted, reflective feel.
What’s working: Blabbermouth raves about the “gorgeous melodies” and Stefan Zell’s ability to sell every fragile emotion, calling the record a beacon of hope rather than pure gloom. Markus’ Heavy Music Blog praises all nine tracks as both musically rich and lyrically affecting, while Rockposer and Ever Metal highlight “This World and All Its Dazzling Nights” as a standout emotional journey. There’s a strong sense that the band have quietly made one of their definitive statements here.
What’s not: if you’re hoping for the heavier Wolverine of the early days, this is going to feel gentle—more elevated synth‑pop/art‑rock in places than metal. Blabbermouth notes that the Katatonia comparisons feel outdated now; Wolverine have gone somewhere more delicate, which might not scratch the itch if you’re craving big riffs and harsh edges.
Silversun Pickups – Tenterhooks
Silversun Pickups came up in the mid‑2000s with a sound that made everyone say “shoegaze Smashing Pumpkins”: fuzzy, layered guitars; loud/soft dynamics; and Brian Aubert’s high, slightly fragile voice floating over the top. The songs are usually built on steady pulses that gradually pile on guitars and synths until the choruses feel huge and hazy at the same time.
On Tenterhooks, the band hit a real‑life snag: Aubert suffered an eardrum injury mid‑recording, forcing them to pause and rethink. They regrouped with producer Butch Vig, intentionally went for a tighter, punchier 10‑song album built to fit on a single LP, and tried to strip back some of their usual wall‑of‑sound excess.
What’s working: FLOOD Magazine hears it as one of their most cohesive records, appreciating the urgency and rawness compared to some of their dreamier past work. Life In Records and Sputnikmusic user reviews single out “Au Revoir Reservoir” and “Interrobang” as standouts, the latter feeling like a cousin to their Carnavas era. A YouTube review from The Beat Sessions praises the production and emotional resonance even when the hooks don’t always explode.
What’s not: the consensus hovers around “good, not life‑changing.” Sputnik users call it “the most by‑the‑numbers they’ve been,” and The Beat Sessions likens some tracks to a roller coaster that never quite hits the big drop. Aubert’s vocals remain divisive—if they’re not your thing, Nikki Monninger’s rare leads will leave you wanting more. For long‑time fans, this will scratch the itch; for the unconvinced, it’s probably not the conversion moment.
Always good reading, I’ll have to listen to some of these.
New Lotus album just came out yesterday. Not a major label release, but these boys are just great.
Yes, I’m very biased. But check it out!
Good choices…. And you’ e cleaned up the hearsay bullshit with actual details.