Veilburner – All That Glimmers Is Gloam
Release Date: 16th October 2026
Label: Transcending Obscurity
Bandcamp
Genre: Avant Black Metal
FFO: Blut aus Nord, Imperial Triumphant, Deathspell Omega, Hexrot, Oranssi Pazuzu, Akhyls, Akercocke, Strigiform, Délirant.
Review By: Malte Brigge
Gloaming is my nineteenth favorite English word. There’s a slightly fascinating reason words that start with gl- have an enchanting effect (glow, glitter, glisten, gloss, etc.), being rooted in the Proto-Indo-European ǵʰel, meaning “to shine” or “to glow”, and many being connected to mystical arts (glamour, gloriole, glass, etc). Ultimately, the title of Veilburner’s ninth record could be read as All That Glows is Glow, but the idea behind All That Glimmers Is Gloam more intends everything with a mystical glow is that deep, crepuscular purple as the light fades. Obviously it’s nonsense to put any thought into it, since Veilburner’s Gertrude Steinian use of English is neither sensible nor sensical, as you’ll see in the song titles, and the music itself may only be possible to describe in terms of broken syntax, disjointed diction, and either silly, meaningless phrases or the most lost of ancient languages. Veilburner, my friends, is getting weirder, and it isn’t easy to tell if it’s meaningful or just plain goofy.
All That Glimmers Is Gloam is Veilburner’s third album in three years (and fifth in six), a tall order for nigh anyone these days, especially with music this adjacent and angular. It isn’t like they’re on the AC/Amarth path, releasing the same album every few years, although there is something to this. Veilburner has a very specific sound only they can create. There’s a brimstone grit in their tone flecked with bile and grime that no one else could possibly capture. The air of their songs is thick and their albums are weighty, built from a deep, intentional variety of guitar sounds, unceasing drumming across inscrutably shifting time signatures, and a sulphuric miasma flowing from Chrisom’s inimitable throat. Being locked into this sound, the questions arise: how much can they do with it? What new directions can such vision explore?
Brangly, brambly plucking starts Here Is Thine Sabbath, So Mote It Chasm (make sense of that if you can, but I don’t recommend it), immediately removing you from any comfort of accessibility. Rare is the moment when discord is not the rule of the day, yet somehow Mephisto’s guitar work always lands where it’s supposed to. His numerous, multi-toned riffs and solos reveal a surprising genius, and more than once I thought of the strange, slippery ways Jeff Beck wove his guitar through super catchy hooks into wild, inhuman passages. Oblivion Is Yours To Labyrinth breaks into a flanged solo sucked from another dimension, Vitriolic Hiss chugs like Monster Magnet possessed by zombie-bitten angels, Of God Slave and Blood Mortar burns a bangy punk passage into an almost flashy arena-ready solo. A Séance to Spectre reaches an unsustainable dissonant entropy that collapses into a killer, Sigh-like groove so melodic and pure I’ve found myself humming it while puttering around. Then there’s the unnerving, midalbum calm of Dis’ Obedient Woe, loaded with loopy, well-placed effects, a stoney bass groove, drenched chords and reigned-in drums. There’s nothing like it in Veilburner’s extensive discography.
Rare is the moment Chrisom isn’t present, and there’s no doubt he’s getting weirder by the album. Since Lurkers in the Capsule of Skull, his voice has become increasingly possessed. It sounds as though he’s channeling a thousand demonic characters across the album to summon some malevolent spirit. He makes Attila’s manic performance on “Cursed to Eternity” sound almost mundane, but it’s a clear inspiration as he rolls from throat-scraping hellish rasps to canyon-echoing shamanic raptures and everything possible between. He channels Délirant’s D.B. through an unholy union of Brooks Wilson (Crypt Sermon), Líam Hughes (Soothsayer), Bobbie Picket (Vitriolic Hiss) and the Tasmanian Devil, dripping blood and spit like he’s some risen abomination leading a deathcult congregation through a Lynchian reading of the most violent passages of the Bible. He’s never been more unleashed, and Golgothic Holocaust may be the best example of the many ranges he here disinters.
If you, like me, have been following with keen interest Veilburner’s necrotic embrace of chthonic weirdity and eldritch strangeitude, enjoying the increasingly clawtoothed discordance and feral-preacher vocals of the past few albums, you will find welcome passage through the labyrinth that is All That Glimmers Is Gloam. It’s another strong act in the long avant-theater of Veilburner’s impenetrable excess. Mephisto and Chrisom are having fun here, but they’re deadly serious about it. Your take will either be that they are visionary or they’ve lost the plot; I lean into the former, hearing All That Glimmers Is Gloam as Veilburner once again showing that there are no boundaries, and that’s fucking terrifying.
(4 / 5)
