It's Doomsday! You know the drill; this is the best music of the 2026, so far, in the realms of the low, slow, and fuzz driven. Tokes out, spaceships launched, mood depressed. That kind of stuff. Let's get into it!
Boeli’s Doomsday Top 9: A Mood List, or: An Exercise in Finding the Margins of Doom and Dethroning Decimal Hegemony
9. Truckfighters - Masterflow
Truthfully, this album would have either passed me by or possibly been relegated to an unattended corner of the memory vault, had I not been so thoroughly impressed by these Swedish psych-rockers live show this April.
Coinciding with their album release, the commanding combination of fuzz and fun carried them from the stage straight into my headphones, where Masterflow has frequently reared its hairy head whenever I felt like something groovy and full of pedal magic.
Also “Carver” is the melancholic fuzz anthem I didn’t know I needed.
8. Enshine - Elevation
More than a decade after mightily impressing me with 2015 standout Singularity, Finnish melodeathdoomsters Enshine reemerge from the cold expanse to serve us another aural representation of majestic, crystalline desolation. Dramatic, somber, rousing and deliciously melodic in equal parts, Elevation is a tour de force on it’s own merit, and a triumphant return for Enshine. It might have warranted higher placement, but my tendency to lose track of January releases, the uphill battle against nostalgia-stained expectations, and the quality of the upcoming entries have left me no choice.
7. Draconian - In Somnolent Ruin
Draconian are an established, classic gothic death/doom act, for good reason. Meticulous, stately and grandiose in their classic Siren and the Snarl vocal dichotomy, underpinned by compositions dripping with gravitas and drama.
This year's weepy addition to their venerable discography proves once more that Draconian belong at the top of their niche.
6 Khemmis - Khemmis
Since blowing my socks off with a few prima cuts of tasty doom on 2015s Absolution debut, Khemmis have established themselves as co-Pallbearers of the magnificent coffin of modern doom revival. Their forays into classic heavy metal elicited mixed opinions, and I myself cannot help but yearn for more akin to Absolution (yes I prefer it to Hunted).
Still, these guys know what they’re doing and have recovered some of their doomier tendencies on their self-titled album, still landing comfortably on my top 10 even though I’d love to get more of the long-form glory of their earlier years, mixed with the confidence, experience and tasteful polish they exude after more than a decade of writing great music.
5. Northern Graves - Derelict Heart
Freshly carried in on a cold north wind, Northern Graves is the blackened doom revenant that rose from the early grave of sorely missed atmospheric black/doom titans Altars of Grief, whose 2018 swansong Iris haunts the saddest spelunks of my soul, and is an ever stalwart companion in the worst of times.
It was with ravenous hunger for feels and a gleeful thirst for sadness that I grabbed hold of Derelict Heart, which largely rewarded me with that for which I longed: the excellent vocal dichotomy of frontman Damian Smith (formerly of AoG), guided by supremely affective blackened doom metal. Northern Graves have that in spades, and while Derelict Heart m has not yet managed to flay my soul as satisfyingly as Iris, perhaps that is because I have not yet been sad enough yet since it;s arrival. The next time 2026 invariably kicks us in the nethers, we will at least have another excellent collection of cathartic compositions to accompany the aftermath.
4. Phendrana - Cathexis
Phendrana’s phenomenal sophomore album Cathexis almost slipped my mind, after having been thoroughly impressed by its chameleonic properties and long-form progressive expertise.
Blending doom, death and black metal with jazz and folk escapades, all with a knack for progressive metal alchemy akin to Opeth or Wilderun, I wouldn't be surprised if this album sneaks further up my lists during the rest of the year.
Hailing from Mexico, Phendrana delivers four cinematic compositions, effortlessly weaving their influences and style together into a shimmering tapestry.
The wonderful (if unapologetically dramatic) compositions are further enriched by a gorgeous production job, allowing the acoustic and electrified elements to breathe, the drums to pummel, and the standout bass lines to often take a leading role in melodic development.
This album’s categorisation as doom is contentious. It’s inclusion in any heavy music top 10 of the year (so far) really, really isn’t.
3. Ennui - Qroba
Every year, there is at least one funeral doom album that I meekly let me drag to the submarine trenches of lightless pressure and despair.
In 2026 that had thus far been Tbilisi, Georgia based Ennui. An unsurprisingly plodding affair, Qroba offers a masochist all the slow, drawn out wallowing they might desire, while maintaining a firm grasp on their attention with a mix of tectonic heft and mournful sensibility.
I particularly love how the album develops along its slow uncoiling. The starting two tracks and the first half of the third set icy, distant moods that evoke the inexorable march of winter or the futile war of a mountain against the wear of wind and time.
The implementation of traditional instrumentation on “Decima” and “Down to the Stars” brings the album down below the tree-line, before closer “Mokvda Mze” absolutely thaws fully and levels me every time. This majestic beast manages to feature one of my favorite ‘choruses’ of the year so far. That really isn’t something I expected to write about a funeral doom album, and more power to Ennui for making it happen and delivering the climactic finish that catapulted this album from its subterranean hunting grounds into the upper echelons of this year's doom offerings.
2. Fires in the Distance - Circadian Promise
Okay, I might be definitively stretching the definition of doom too far with this one. Truth be told, I herald very little death metal that actually impressed me this year, and the stuff that did arguably has enough different genre DNA that I can sneak it into different lists. Such is the case with synth-spangled proggy mellowdeath(doom) masters Fires in the Distance. While their debut Air Not Meant For Us impressed me with it’s soundscape but failed to hook me and reel me in, Circadian Promise has hooks for days and leaves me reeling on the regular. Rooted in atmospheric, melancholic melodic death metal,the fact FitD may not strictly fit on this list is probably the reason it isn’t at the top, as I felt that had to be restricted to a ‘real’ doom artist.
While compositionally I’m definitely cheating here, these guys truly do embody the mood of doom. Melancholic, introspective and expansive in a way death metal doesn’t really do, Circadian Promise develops the soundscape of the debut album into a full-fledged formula that keeps me coming back for its smart writing as much as its unique mood and silky smooth synthscapes. You may balk at my genre-irreverent antics, but you’d better not sleep on this album if you read this blog and somehow haven’t heard it yet.
1. Warning - Rituals of Shame
If you’ve read any of my reviews of the last months, you might have known this one was coming. While its release date and complete lack of regard for any lingering happiness have precluded me from playing this as much as some of the previous entries, it’s placement here is not to be fucked with.
Warning are back, and if you’d like to read my rather gushing review, I couldn’t have extolled Rituals of Shame better than I did here.
Eden’s Unsorted List of Redolent Atmosphere
Lueenas - Tender Anger
This one came on early in the year and immediately arrested me with the depth of its textures. It’s not an album that’s for anyone; it has roots in drone and experimental ambient music. But there’s also something primal and immediately appealing in its sound, something visceral and more accessible than those two genres tend to be. Anyone, whether they’re a fan of music that feels like it can crush you or not, can relate to the deep, guttural anger and sadness that are on this release. Melding animal growls, cavernous atmosphere, and deep, echoing darkness, Lueenas have created an album that doesn’t really sound like anything else even as it appeals to places that all humans have found themselves in their dark hours.
Exxûl - Sealed Into None
While doom is usually associated with the deeps (as this very list will evidence), a bit part of the style is actually about the peaks of gothic melodrama and flamboyant expression. Exxûl understands this very well, not bothering to apologize or second guess their vision on Sealed Into None. The album is all bells, spiraling towers, and vaunted heights, digging deep into the grander sides of doom. The thing is, this kind of style of doom metal requires a lot of skill to keep in check, which is where the compositional expertise of one Phil Tougas comes into play. While Sealed Into None is definitely not as intricate as some of Tougas’ other work, it still has a lot of elements at play that need balancing lest they fall into so much fluff. Instead of doing that, they are bound into a tight and eminently listenable album, even as the music pushes grander and grander emotions to the listener’s ear.
Weedpecker - V
I’ve said this before and I will say it again - Weedpecker are criminally underrated. This usually takes on the form of (understandable) comparisons to Elder. But the fact remains that Weedpecker’s V deserves a spot on this list right now next to those luminaries of progressive stoner rock perhaps because it emphasizes the “stoner” part of the equation more than any of Elder’s last releases. V is a rich, multi-layered journey into a land awash in light and shadow, a psychedelic journey that channels long track times, melancholic-yet-sweet guitar tones, excellent, excellent bass (seriously, the bass lines on this release are mint), and evocative vocals. The end result is a rich tapestry of an album, a world which opens before you, and a damn fine piece of music.
Chained to the Bottom of the Ocean - Let Us Not Speak Of Them But Look And Pass On
I don’t want to use many words here. I want you to listen to this album. Sometimes what you want is to be disintegrated. Sometimes what you want is to suffocate and be blasted to bits. For those times, you want Chained to the Bottom of the Ocean. Let Us Not Speak Of Them But Look And Pass On is that promise distilled, the band’s most furious and most accomplished work to date. Press play and be smothered.
Gavran - The One Who Propels
True to form, this one took its time to grow on me. Unlike their previous release, Indistinct Beacon, on The One Who Propels Gavran have opted for a cleaner, colder sound. To begin with, I couldn’t quite settle that sound with the compositional approach, looking for something harsher to back up the slow, sludge pace. But then I gave it a few more listens and figured out that Gavran were going more for majesty here than oppression, a sense of wonder at something massive unfurling in the distance. From there, I was hooked, coming back again and again to the unique sound created by the clean production, the haunting vocals, and the crashing instruments. Those vocals especially shine through on repeated listens, working exceptionally well with the rest of the arrangement to create the epic, somber sound that is the mainstay of the release. It reminds me a lot of Ancestors and you know that’s high praise coming from me. If you too long for that kind of magisterial sound, give The One Who Propels a listen and then some. There’s a lot to dig into here.
Sugar Horse - Not A Sound in Heaven
This is the other release on this list which arrested me and stopped me in my tracks. Once again, Sugar Horse have opted to place a massive, undulating, drone piece smack dab in the center of one of their albums. This time, it comes in the form of “History’s Biggest T-shirts”. Don’t get me wrong, the rest of the album is well worth your time as well, as Sugar Horse display a more direct, heavy hitting sound on it. But that track...man, that track. There is much texture and emotion in its supposedly “wall of sound” run time. The relentless, all encompassing sound is like being awash with light, adrift on some life raft in a boiling ocean. Or something, I don’t know; words don’t do it justice. Go listen to the whole release but brace yourself for that track in particular - I can’t quite stay away from it.
Abrams - Loon
This is another album for which not a lot of words are needed. Swinging, grooving, hard hitting, Loon is Abrams at their most polished. They’ve taken their pop-sludge trademark sound, slapped a whole bunch of heft on it and simply let it rip. This is a rock n’ roll sort of album; you feel it in your guts and feet.
Elder - Through Zero
What more needs to be said about Elder at this point? There is so much to love about the band. But perhaps what I love about them the most is that they keep pushing and keep reinventing themselves. Through Zero, as I wrote in my review, feels like the band taking stock of all of their different modes to date and finding a way to somehow integrate them all together. There’s groovy Elder on this release, there’s atmospheric Elder, improvisational Elder and all the other Elder types besides. It really is a massive album and one which I think will stand next to Lore in its importance for Elder’s storied career. And you can also just enjoy it for what it is - a damn fine progressive stoner album.
SolNegre - Anthems for the Grand Collapse
This one kind of advertises itself - what else could an album titled Anthems for the Grand Collapse sound like? In case you haven’t guessed, this is probably the doomiest album on this list, filled to the brim with long, echoing chords, and despondent vocals. What I love about it so much is that it really doesn’t apologize for any of this, leaning well into the formula and abutting against funeral doom. As a result, it’s not the most varied or challenging album on this list but what it does, it does very well.
Fires in the Distance - Cricadian Promise
Read my review! Circadian Promise is a bold step for Fires In the Distance, wherein they let go of their (admittedly very enjoyable) gimmick in favor of continued growth as a band. You love to see it.
Doomsday? More like Shroomsday! AKA Jordan’s Top 10 Trippiest Selections of 2026
10. Weedpecker - V
I’m reluctant to call this a return to form since they really haven’t made a misstep in the last eight years, but Polish heavy psych crew Weedpecker once again bottle some of the lightning that made their acclaimed 2018 release, III, such a bewitching record. On this outing, their sprawling lush soundscapes provide an environment that really lets their invigorated and inspiring interminglings of soaring leads, ethereal vocals, and supernatural grooves shine.
If you’ve been (understandably) wearing out the grooves on the latest Elder record and for some reason haven’t given this a whirl, take this as a nudge to rectify that.
9. Stainless - Lady of Lust & Steel
Like any responsible music lover, I did a little homework listening in advance of Stumpfest XI, and in doing so, the metal gods blessed me with the Portland’s Stainless’ ass-kicking brand of classic heavy metal. The altars of Judas Priest, Saxon, and W.A.S.P. definitely get their flowers throughout Lady of Lust & Steel, but the more pleasant surprise for me was something I’ve been chasing for some time: a new band capable of capturing some of the sleaze Guns N Roses perfected nearly four decades ago.
Larissa Cavacece’s leathery croon is exceptionally fun, finding a similar range as Mr. Rose, from the unexpectedly low to some impressively wild shrieks which lend a lot of color to the hooks here. But what really gets me is how tight and varied the songwriting is on this record. Jamie Byrum (Black Breath) offers impressive performances on guitars, drums, and some backing vocals, and it’s obvious he’s a lover of that old-school sound. This thing is basically a crash course on everything street metal. Check out the bluesy swagger of “Take a Listen Mama,” the distinctly 80s thumpy bass on “Vitamin Tease,” the needling riffage in “Danger in the Night,” or the abundant (but not indulgent) use of cowbell. If you’re gonna tip a few back with the homies this summer, it’s probably a good idea to throw this one on every now and then.
8. Jack Irons & Remco Hendricks - Iridescence
If you would’ve told me I’d be geeking out about an album featuring drum great Jack Irons (ex-Pearl Jam, ex-Red Hot Chili Peppers) in the year 2026, I would’ve assumed PJ found an ideal and ironic replacement for Matt Cameron. I suppose there’s still time for that to happen, but the deal here is that his chops are well-utilized on this weird, bizarre, and utterly alien record.
Iridescence has a soundtrack-y and cinematic feel with one of the strongest senses of narrative I’ve heard in a long-ass time—especially for an instrumental album, and especially for an instrumental album like this. It’s obviously very percussion-forward and loaded with infectious beats, but it’s also uniquely textured with oodles of synth and rubbery fretless bass, all played in real-time. Irons’ deep bag of tricks gives bassist Remco Hendricks infinite opportunity to groove and lend color in ways that I'm just not used to or simply never before heard. It comes together in this sort of cosmic flavor, but it does also have some sort of world music (for lack of a better word) feel to it that massages the recesses of my mind and encourages repeat listens.
7. Jimi Hendrix - Valley of Jams 1969-1970
Jimi Hendrix is so good his jams are better than most albums. Not saying this as some fucking Rolling Stone-is-my-Bible boomer, but for real. This collection put out by Third Man Records highlights his genius in a way I never really understood. It’s one thing to hear well-rehearsed tracks, refined by an artist and polished in the studio, but it’s an entirely different thing to hear the process of creation, the unfurling of an idea in real time. Jimi’s got some awesome players around him in these selections, and hearing them spontaneously create and navigate “tracks” from four to 28 minutes in length is nothing short of jaw-dropping. At times it's raw, at others it’s impossibly locked in, but it’s consistently evolving, exuding a contagious energy that welcomes you to get carried away in its hyperspeed-backwards-through-time montage of rock, jazz, blues, and soul and maybe even a taste of the future, too.
This is all out there somewhere in some way shape and form separately, I’m sure. However, there are still some vinyl copies floating around for sale on Discogs, and I can’t really recommend it enough. The press sounds flawless, and the format really leans into that “holy shit, I’m literally hearing Jimi create” feel—no second takes, no punch-ins. A little steep on the wallet, but totally worth it because it’s just impossible to tire of this record.
6. Ingrina - Nåværende Lys
Few things satisfy me like hearing a band find their sound and really come into their own as this singular idea, thing, or entity, to the point where seeing their name triggers a flood of firing synapses that scream “THAT sound.” I think Ingrina crossed that threshold for me with Nåværende Lys. The movements here are so grand, the details are so polished, and that signature is front and center on every second of this beast. It’s crushing while uplifting, mysterious and in-your-face, and cathartic in ways that only post-metal can deliver. I haven’t had reason to dig into a ton of other albums from the genre this year, and that’s a testament to just how fucking good this record is.
5. All Them Witches - House of Mirrors
It feels like I’ve been waiting forever for a new All Them Witches record. Their previous, Nothing As The Ideal landed about six years ago, but it felt like it might as well have been 10. Following the departure of drummer Robby Staebler, I was super curious to see what the next era of this band would sound like with new drummer Christian Powers. They’ve taken on a new form with each record, from bluesy doom to desert rock to alt/stoner rock to retro-tinged psych to post/prog metal, they’ve dabbled in so many things and yet have always sounded like themselves. It’s natural to think they’d have an even more dramatic shift after replacing someone who had such a distinct playstyle, but weirdly House of Mirrors does no such thing. Instead, it’s like an audio house of mirrors with ten different distortions of the band.
Hell, they open the record with a doomy interpretation of Doc Watson’s bluegrass standard “Red Rocking Chair.” Sometimes, they revisit albums from the past. The dusty doom of “Culling Line” and marching twang of “Aethernet” would make great neighbors on 2015’s Dying Surfer Meets His Maker, “Angel On The Wayside” captures some of that vintage flavor employed on their 2018 self-titled record, and “Hold Up, Say What?” has that unusual, almost grungy energy from 2017’s Sleeping Through the War (also fucking love that Muse-y bass tone). Elsewhere, they tap into ghostly psych (“Go-getter”) and fuzzy 2000’s garage rock a la Arctic Monkeys (“Turn On The Light”), or hone their storytelling and emotional resonance (“The Welterweight” & “Saturn Song”). They prove themselves to be remarkably flexible songwriters and remain as enigmatic as ever with House of Mirrors, a confident and uniquely cohesive effort.
4. CAVS - Sojourn
Here’s another percussion-heavy record with a world music flair, but this time from King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard’s stickwielder Michael “Cavs” Cavanagh (KGLW’s Joey Walker also handles bass duties, FWIW). A decidedly jazzier and more organic offering, this funky shit channels the likes of Herbie Hancock and Tito Puente, while also dabbling into some breakbeats, locked-in krautrock, prog, and a cornucopia of fusion. Sojourn is another varied release from a song-to-song standpoint, but it’s certainly cohesive enough to leave on repeat because these grooves are immensely addictive and the diverse supporting cast of instrumentation (including pianos, flutes, harp, woodwinds, hand drums, rushing water—and frogs!?) lend an incredible amount of flavor, giving even shorter runtime tracks ridiculous replayability.
3. Elder - Through Zero
I don’t know if I’m at the point where Elder can record an entire album by farting in a microphone and I’ll love it, but it feels like I’m getting pretty close. Through Zero is another masterclass from one of the best bands going right now—regardless of genre. They’re one of the few acts where I can’t even muster an idea of where they’ll go next, and maybe that keeps this ongoing sense of wonder alive and well for me, turning each record into an opportunity for discovery. I could learn something from myself here…
Musing aside, I think what draws me back to this record so frequently is how I feel like I’m getting “just another” Elder album in the sense that their hallmarks are all over this thing, but the details hit me in a way I’m not accustomed to, largely by way of the synth. It helps to create a sound that’s more atmospheric and textually richer, bigger and awe-inspiring, but in an almost contradictory way, also subtler and more careful? Elder has always avoided the kind of aloofness—or maybe just terminal introspection—that can creep into progressive rock (is it that prog nerds can get their heads up their ass a little bit? Yeah, it's probably that). Even at their most expansive, they've always felt grounded in something tangible. Through Zero doubles down on generating that quality, forging an almost inextricable human connection beneath all of its cosmic scale and technical brilliance. For all this ambition and technical prowess, the record never feels like it's showing off, but instead, it feels like it’s reaching out.
2. Slift - Fantasia
I admit, I was a little apprehensive hearing about the more spontaneous, less meticulously structured approach Slift took recording this album, but I've actually come to love how immediate Fantasia feels. It hits more like a live performance—nbuilt to be played front to back. Tracks like “Corrupted Sky” and “The Village” must’ve been one song at some point with how those fit together. Similarly, “Waiting Man” and “The Day of Execution” feel like different movements of the same piece. We might’ve lost a bit of the complexity that made prior records such a treasure trove of cosmic delights, but I am super into the pace and energy of this release.
Coincidentally, it reminds me a bit of when fellow 2026 Shroomsday list-landers All Them Witches released their 2018 self-titled album. It sounds a little more jammy, designed to unfold and evolve, to exist as a piece revisited over time as much as it delivers immediate impact. I can definitely hear how Slift could expand upon and change these songs over time in a live setting—this is some real “real band” shit. (Yeah, this is me throwing shade at bands who play album-perfect versions of their songs live. Grow up.) While I do miss some of their older vocal styles and those dramatic heavy/spacey transitions, the synth work here gives Fantasia its own identity and even some classic rock flair. I can almost picture the full-blast fog machines and miniature Stonehenge descending while they play, and for that I am enthusiastically thankful. At a time when there are so many questions about what’s real and what’s not in art, it fills my heart to hear an album so unmistakably real.
1. Neurosis - An Undying Love For A Burning World
There was a hot maybe ten hours where I was right on target hailing Poison the Well’s Peace In Place as likely comeback album of the year. Then that fell apart as Bay Area post-metal legends Neurosis surprise-dropped a comeback with Aaron Fucking Turner, of all people. I assume since you’re reading this column you’ve spent a good amount of time with this record and likely have a grasp on how timely and how prescient, how visceral and how cerebral, and how utterly necessary this album feels for those of us who felt like we lost a brother when they rightly decided to go on hiatus.
That’s part of what makes An Undying Love For A Burning World so remarkable: there was no need for this band to return, and really, how could they? They’ve accomplished so much, forever changing the extreme music landscape in ways that have deservedly earned them legendary status. There was nothing left to accomplish, but like any artist worth a damn, they’re compelled to respond to our changing world in the ways they know best, fulfillment of any “unfinished business” be damned. They found ways to say what needs to be said, but more importantly, in new ways.
In hindsight, Turner’s recruitment is about as no-brainer as it gets, but this glovelike fit couldn’t possibly have clicked for anyone until this masterpiece was given a proper front-to-back listen—there’s no “calling it!” with a comeback masterpiece of this degree, where echoes of Turner’s Isis, SUMAC, and even Jodis bleed their way into Neurosis’ gargantuan framework. Each unwasted second simultaneously feels like a laborious and well-considered decision as much as it pours directly from their hearts, coming together in uniquely Neurosis-y ways in what’s arguably their crowning achievement.