Country: United Kingdom
Genre: Avant-Garde Metal / Atmospheric Black Metal / Progressive Metal
Release: May 8, 2026
For fans of: Arcturus, Ashenspire, Thy Catafalque, Oranssi Pazuzu, Pensées Nocturnes.
British avant-garde metallers A Forest of Stars return with their new work, “Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface”, released via Prophecy Productions. The band from Yorkshire continues to explore the dark, decadent side of human nature. This time, instead of wondering when humanity begins, they examine what must happen for it to be lost for good: What happens when a person is systematically stripped of sociability, connection and dignity? A labyrinthine, psychedelic and highly theatrical album that marries British black metal with Victorian (and at times industrial/dystopian) aesthetics.
Tracklist :
- Ascension of the Clowns
- Street Level Vertigo
- Mechanically Separated Logic
- Roots Circle Usurpers
- Sway, Draped in Vague
- Not Drinking Water
REVIEW : ** Listen at your own risk …
A Forest of Stars were never an easy band. “Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface” is a heap of broken, nightmarish images, thrown into a black metal psychosis. At the centre of this chaos is —who else?— singer Curse. His performance is from another planet. He spits venom like a maniacal preacher (especially at the end of “Street Level Vertigo”), whispers with detachment, or screams until his vocal cords snap, painting a narrator who gradually loses his identity («I—am not I…» he repeats on the explosive “Roots Circle Usurpers”).
Musically, the album constantly plays with your nerves. Endless, repeating psychedelic riffs create a claustrophobic, industrial atmosphere, while Katheryne’s violin (“Queen of the Ghosts”) comes at times as a redemptive melody observing the chaos from above (as in the intro of “Street Level Vertigo”) and at times sinks into misery (in the heartbreaking close of “Sway, Draped in Vague”). There are moments of pure second-wave black metal grandeur, but most of the record is a stream-of-consciousness, an avant-garde narration. At the same time, there’s always that sardonic, grotesque, British humour. Like when they describe in every detail a… blocked urinal on “Mechanically Separated Logic” or how a proud tree ends up becoming toilet paper. You laugh so as not to go mad. It’s an album that crushes you but at the same time rewards you, as long as you can bear its psychological weight.
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