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GUYOÐ - DEATH THROES OF A DROWNING GOD
AVAILABLE NOW via GRAZIL RECORDS - As Death Throes of a Drowning God settles into its closing moments, GUYOÐ make one thing clear: this is not a record built from parts. Doom, death and black metal are all present, but none of them operate as foundation or accents. The EP doesn’t pivot between styles. The elements converge rather than alternate, and across four expansive tracks offset by brief but purposeful interludes, the band construct something that feels larger than its runtime.
Formed in Graz, Austria in 2020, GUYOÐ describe themselves as death metal with strong doom and black tendencies. That description is accurate, but it undersells what’s happening here. The doom weight doesn’t underpin the sound, and the blackened energy never feels feral or decorative. Nothing feels attached after the fact.
But that cohesion has consequences. The EP resists familiar song-writing signposts. There are no obvious choruses, no neatly contained hooks, and very little in the way of traditional verse–chorus symmetry. Riffs recur, but they don’t resolve in the way modern metal often trains you to expect. On early listens, it can feel chaotic. It’s dense, oppressive, almost confrontational in its refusal to guide you. And it’s bleak. Oh man is it bleak.
Every so often the EP offers a familiar shape — a riff that clicks into place long enough for you to think, I know this. But it doesn’t stay there. The opening of “Behind Walls of Ice” hints at palm-muted, Sodom-like forward drive, then it moves on. Comfort is evasive.
It can make the record difficult to absorb casually. But as with all art worth exploring, resistance becomes part of its appeal. Death Throes of a Drowning God asks for attention rather than offering instant gratification. It took multiple listens before the chaos began to feel deliberate. Once it does though, the transitions make sense, the repetitions feel placed rather than random, and the heaviness begins to feel controlled instead of overwhelming. What initially felt dense and impenetrable reveals itself as purposeful — and you’re left with a genuinely engaging recording.
But the bleak oppression? That doesn’t lift. The tone remains uncomfortable and unrelenting throughout; there’s no warmth waiting on the other side of understanding this album.
This is unflinchingly fucking heavy.
SCORE 9.5/10
REVIEW BY RYAN LIND