Review: Kiyohime

As the old saying goes, "Fortune favours the brave," and few albums this year have been braver than Anno Domini. Kiyohime hasn't just forged heavy music here - they've forged their own path. Metal fans should consider this album nothing short of divine intervention.

REVIEWS

7/8/20263 min read

Next up is the new album Anno Domini from Kiyohime, the brainchild of a passionate musician and producer determined to push metal far beyond its traditional boundaries.

Blending crushing riffs, industrial textures, electronica and cinematic soundscapes, Kiyohime isn't interested in writing conventional metal songs. Instead, Anno Domini feels like a journey through beautifully controlled chaos - an album that constantly challenges, surprises and rewards the listener.

Opening with Phobos Recedes, the album immediately erupts in a burst of static before shifting its weight like a colossal metallic juggernaut. It may only be a brief introduction, but it perfectly foreshadows the chaotic, beautiful and wonderfully non-linear experience that lies ahead.

The Weight of Existence creeps into life almost unnoticed before exploding into a modern interpretation of 90's nu-metal. There are only passing nods to that era though, because this is undeniably a record built for 2026.

Industrial textures collide with crushing metal riffs, while psychedelic undertones drift through the background. Every layer serves a purpose and the groove that drives the song forward is so huge that even Pantera would nod in approval.

The electronic elements never overpower the guitars either. Instead, they broaden the sound, making the track feel expansive rather than restrictive. This is less a straightforward song and more a constantly evolving musical landscape.

The repeated breakdowns are chaotic but never random, each one leading back into a signature riff that feels absolutely colossal.

A beast of a track.

Pale Engine follows by allowing the music to hang suspended in the ether before firing the listener back into another grinding, monolithic riff. Once again, the marriage between electronic textures and metallic aggression is handled superbly.

The subtle programming builds naturally into the arrangement without ever distracting from the powerhouse drumming or the crushing guitar work.

Then comes a breakdown that borders on the ethereal before the floodgates burst open once more into a full-scale metallic assault.

The sheer number of ideas packed into this one song could comfortably fill an entire album, yet Kiyohime somehow makes it feel completely natural.

God-Shaped Cavity arrives with perhaps the album's most immediate opening, hitting squarely in the chest with a monstrous riff while the surrounding samples create an almost surreal contrast.

The song constantly balances brutality with atmosphere.

There is a far more cinematic feel here too, with Kiyohime once again demonstrating a remarkable understanding of space. Rather than simply overwhelming the listener with relentless heaviness, the music breathes, expands and envelops before dragging you violently back into the carnage.

The groove throughout is immense and impossible to resist.

Titan's Ribcage injects a welcome shot of punk attitude into the formula, bringing a more primal aggression to proceedings. Once again though, it is the electronic textures and warped samples that elevate the music beyond standard heavy metal.

This is genuinely a head trip.

The track constantly pulls you towards one destination before abruptly changing direction, taking you somewhere entirely unexpected.

Instrumental music can sometimes become repetitive or predictable.

Kiyohime simply refuses to allow that to happen.

Ideas are layered upon ideas and just when you think you've worked the track out, another twist appears from nowhere.

Mercury In The Womb provides one of the album's biggest surprises.

It drifts in serenely, almost lifting the listener above the chaos through haunting keyboards and subtle ambient textures. Every instinct tells you that the trademark explosion is about to arrive.

It never does.

Instead, Kiyohime shows remarkable restraint, revealing a softer, more contemplative side that is every bit as compelling as the heavier moments elsewhere on the album.

Then Iron Liturgy drags everything crashing back to earth.

Chaotic drums and dissonant guitar lines spiral together, building layer upon layer of tension until the experience becomes almost physically uncomfortable. Hidden beneath the off-kilter arrangements lies another one of those trademark grooves, quietly holding everything together while chaos reigns above it.

This is a difficult listen in the very best possible sense.

Demanding, uncompromising and incredibly rewarding.

In fact, we found ourselves playing it twice simply to begin appreciating everything happening simultaneously.

The album concludes with Unconsecrated Ground, which acts as the perfect bookend alongside the opening Phobos Recedes.

It is strange.

It is unsettling.

It is unconventional.

And it is absolutely essential.

Anno Domini isn't an album that asks for your attention - it demands it. Kiyohime has created something that sits far beyond the confines of traditional metal, blending industrial, electronica, ambience and crushing heaviness into a listening experience that constantly evolves. Every track feels meticulously constructed, every twist serves a purpose and every listen reveals something previously hidden.

This isn't simply music. It's an experience.

As the old saying goes, "Fortune favours the brave," and few albums this year have been braver than Anno Domini. Kiyohime hasn't just forged heavy music here - they've forged their own path. Metal fans should consider this album nothing short of divine intervention.

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