Worm sink their teeth into symphonic black metal on the vampiric and arcane Necropalace.
Release date: February 13, 2026 | Century Media Records | Bandcamp | Instagram
When a musical artist is lucky enough to achieve their first widely regarded success, it crystallizes their sound of choice at the time in the minds of new fans. It can become a standard against which each next release is measured, a shadow that only grows longer each time it isn’t matched. Some might keep hitting that bar or even raise it, but I’ve always thought that the true realisation of a musical artist comes from sonic evolution, proving that their identity exceeds our expectations. In recent years, several acts in extreme metal have managed to transcend their mold in this way, whether it’s the new-age deep dive of Blood Incantation or the dark shoegaze explorations of Deafheaven. Now we see Worm, a band celebrated for their cavernous, swampy death/doom, leap into new territory and add a new facet to their identity.
Worm began in 2012 as a love letter from founder Phantom Slaughter to ’90s trve kvlt black metal and the Florida swamps, both of which helped him flee the toxic materialism he perceived around him. These influences dominated their sound through 2017’s fittingly-titled Evocation of the Black Marsh, but their style would later branch out. On 2020’s Gloomlord and 2021’s Foreverglade, the band dove into funereal, sprawling death/doom, strictly for the swamps. This shift created their most iconic material and brought on most of their current fans. Soon after, though, Phantom Slaughter parted with his bandmates and brought on Wroth Septentrion, a Québécois shredder whose music I’ve been obsessed with recently. In his many bands, he always brings battle-vest nostalgia and audacious guitar work. Though his influence wouldn’t appear much on 2023’s split LP Starpath, he has taken on an active songwriting role on this new album, Necropalace.
This is the first time that Phantom Slaughter has deigned to include others in the songwriting process, and it’s brought dramatic changes of genre and vibe. I think the best way to illustrate them is to illustrate the changes in lyrical themes, because Worm lyrics are a vessel for aesthetics and atmosphere. On Foreverglade, we had a cabal of amphibian necromancers, hunched in their swamp lair plotting an esoteric ritual. Now on Necropalace, we’ve taken a full pivot to an ancient Romanian vampire lord who sits in his enormous, frigid castle, sucks virgin blood, and dreams about astral apocalyptic dragon-gods. Still unholy and brooding, but now covered in frost and shadow, dripping with sanguine lust. If that doesn’t make sense, just look at the silk shirts and fake blood of their music videos and you’ll see what I mean.
The music of Necropalace embodies its vampiric concept with a threefold mix of genres. First and foremost is symphonic black metal à la Dimmu Borgir, where synth organ and choir pads hail blastbeats and hyperborean riffs. Phantom Slaughter alternates between blasphemous snarls of war or gothy groans of desire, depending on the mood. The frostbite then gives way to part two: righteous heavy metal shredding. This combo of ’90s-worship black metal and ’80s-worship heavy metal is the Tougas signature move lately, and he carries it for indulgent lengths, milking each second with flashy bravado. When black metal and solos run their course, the band plunges into the death/doom they’re known for, offering some crushing weight to keep this indulgent album grounded. For the vast majority of this album’s one-hour runtime, this is the formula they work with, balancing villainous darkness, dramatic melodicism, and a healthy slathering of metal camp.
Though Necropalace doesn’t vary much in sound from song to song, Worm lean enough into their strengths to keep things interesting. The atmosphere is enchanting as hell: each different instrumental touch offers another taste of undead decadence, and I hang off Phantom Slaughter’s every word. Tougas’ solos always impress, and their contrast with the extreme metal foundation makes for a distinct sound. Towards the album’s tail end, when things might start to sound same-y, there are some juicy highlights to reinvigorate. “Blackheart” may be my favorite composition on the album, largely due to a recurring clean guitar melody which floats above the song like a magical, ice-sculpted chandelier, chiming a mournful tune. This song has the most convincing arcane vampire vibe on the tracklist, but it’s challenged by the closer…ahem…“Witchmoon: The Infernal Masquerade”. It’s a behemoth of a track that carries for over fourteen minutes, and nearly a quarter of it is taken up by a lead guitar duel between Tougas and Marty fucking Friedman of Megadeth fame. Friedman still meets his reputation after all these years with bluesy, winding licks, but Tougas is nonetheless able to match him, which is the best compliment I could give. Then, of course, the song ends in a Manowar-style explosion of dive bombs and drum fills.
With Necropalace, Worm have taken their penchant for over-the-top atmosphere to a new realm of bloodlust. While it may borrow from the past more directly than their most well-known material, it combines its influences in such a way to claim its sound for itself, and overcome the death/doom expectations of fans. At this point, it seems completely up in the air what kind of style Worm will go for next, and I’m all here for whatever direction they choose.
