Worm - Necropalace

Release Date - 13th February 2026

Label - Century Media

Words - Tony Bliss

With their crypt-lurking and cobwebbed atmosphere, Worm represent the sort of self-styled, goth-tastic netherworld that even the most stubborn extreme metal fan would admit to being morbidly curious about. Whist vampyric black metal and funeral doom don’t make for common bedfellows, previous full-length Foreverglade and 2022’s Bluenothing EP confirmed the Floridian/Quebecian duo to have shaped this unlikely hybrid into something uniquely thrilling, a roiling witches' brew of cinematic romantasy and abysmal darkness with a melodic streak a mile wide and ambition to spare. With this in mind, there was always the feeling that Worm had something truly special awaiting us under their cloaks, however Necropalace conjures a world of dark magik and multi-dimensional drama that eclipses the loftiest of expectations, and then some.

Indeed, it takes just one cursory glance at that wonderfully nerd friendly album art to know that Worm are pulling out all the stops here, and as  ‘Gates to the Shadowzone’ ushers us into the records shadowy domain via two minutes of Dracula-ized orchestration and booming bombast, and the title track explodes like some unholy alliance of classic Peaceville gloominess, early Emperor and brazenly old school heavy metal, it is clear that whilst the bands influences are still writ large, Worms effortless control of their craft turns these seven mini-epics into something far beyond the sum of their parts.   

In fact, the entire hour-plus run time is simply an embarrassment of riches. Third track ‘Halls of Weeping’, is a doom-laden death march bejeweled with all manner of symphonic embellishments and displaying a level of atmospheric suss that transforms what should be a gruelling slo-mo horror show into something all the more vibrant, whereas ‘The Night Has Fangs’  knits a technicolor tapestry of ideas comprised equally of ‘Principle…’ era Cradle Of Filth, subtle Iron Maiden-isms and the sort of neoclassical shred that Yngwie Malmsteen would struggle to match. ‘Dragon Dreams’ goes one better, its flickering keys throwing us back to the Norwegian scenes' first tentative steps toward an analogue synth before evolving into a mahoosive widescreen spectacle, replete with some aching guitar melodies and a real ebb and flow between black metals primordial power and an enigmatic, 3D fearlessness that is almost progressive in scope.   

It all comes to a head on extraordinary closer ‘Witchmoon: The Infernal Masquerade’, all freezing-fog splendour and richly melodic textures aided by a sublime extended trade off between six-string legend Marty Friedman and the similarly accomplished Worm axe-man Philippe ‘Wroth Septentrion’ Tougas, who together peel off some of the most immaculate, scintillating guitar solos in recent memory. Much like the rest of the album, it is an imperious show of strength, and ‘Necropalace’ is already nailed on as a future classic. Monumental stuff.

9/10