Some bands evolve. Avdagata escalate. With The Apocalyptic Aeon, their second full-length, the Swedish horde don’t present growth so much as a mutation — the kind of transformation that suggests something grim and unnatural has been festering beneath the surface since the debut, only now finally bursting through the skin. This isn’t refinement. This is ascension through ruin. A band discovering not just their voice, but their weapon.
Where many acts dip a toe into deeper waters on album two, Avdagata dive headlong into the abyss, dragging the listener with them. From the first eruption of As Humanity Falls the intent is unmistakable: this is Black/Death Metal built for total bodily harm. No preamble, no seduction — just immediate, surgical devastation delivered with a precision that feels as ritualistic as it is feral.
The guitars alone feel engineered for maximum laceration. Every tremolo line hits like exposed tendon snapping; every downpicked phrase crushes like falling masonry. There’s a clarity to the tone that makes the assault even more unnerving — you hear every serration, every grind, every moment where the strings themselves sound like they’re protesting under the force being exerted on them. It’s Swedish steel sharpened to the point of sadism.
Vocally, Avdagata sound less like a singer and more like a man being dragged across gravel, spitting every word through shattered teeth. These aren’t just harsh vocals — they’re the sound of existential murder, delivered with a venomous cadence that sits right on the edge of human and inhuman. There’s no theatrics, no grandiose posturing; it’s raw, bile-clotted aggression spat like a curse. Every phrase lands like a psychic blow to the skull.
And then there are the drums: disciplined insanity incarnate. The blast-beats feel mechanised yet vicious, like a war machine driven by pure spite. The double-kick doesn’t so much rumble as bulldoze, flattening the mix into a churn of low-end violence. But it’s the drummer’s sense of control amidst the bedlam that stands out. These aren’t random eruptions — they’re calculated demolitions, perfectly timed to make sure nothing is left standing.
What gives The Apocalyptic Aeon its real power, though, is its dynamic cruelty. Avdagata know that unbroken speed becomes wallpaper, so they wield tempo like a sledgehammer. When the pace slows, it doesn’t offer relief. It tightens the noose around your fucking neck, and pulls like a bastard. Those mid-tempo passages carry a suffocating weight — oppressive, ritualistic, and dripping with dread. Instead of reprieve, they offer the sense of oxygen thinning, of the world turning hostile.
Melodically, the band balance frostbitten Black Metal bleakness with the brute-force density of Death Metal. At moments, hints of sorrowful melody twist through the chaos like veins of rot running through diseased flesh — never enough to soothe, just enough to deepen the despair. This is anguish as a runaway train.
As the record progresses, it becomes obvious that Avdagata have achieved something many second albums fail to do: they’ve solidified their identity without calcifying their sound. The Apocalyptic Aeon isn’t the band repeating their debut, nor is it an overreaching attempt at reinvention. It’s the sound of confidence sharpening into cruelty — a band realising exactly how devastating they can be and choosing to push that as far as it can go without collapsing into excess.
The Apocalyptic Aeon is a test of strength, will, and whatever fragments of spirit you brought into the experience. This isn’t an album meant to accompany daily life. It’s an album meant to interrupt it — violently, decisively, corruptingly.
The Apocalyptic Aeon by Avdagata will be available November 28th via At Dawn Records.
CHOICE CUT: Impes! Homines Mors!
BLACK METAL ARCHIVES VERDICT: A sharpened evolution into total devastation. Avdagata’s second album doesn’t just prove their intent — it makes their dominance undeniable. A disciplined, sadistic triumph.
PRESS SOURCE: Cátia C./Against PR.
