Review by Dominik on January 1, 2026.

The Swiss duo with the comfortably cliché moniker "Ghörnt" ("Horned"), quietly lurking in the corner of the metal archives while unleashing a frankly unhealthy amount of noise, has crawled out of the alpine shadows and now finds itself in the crosshairs of my review. Since 2021, the beginning of the band's ritual of sonic arson, the demolition squad has stuck to a reliable two-year release cycle, with "Bluegraf" being their latest audible proof of existence. Unlike fellow countrymen Aara, who focus on building gripping atmospheres, or Chötza, who sometimes drift musically and lyrically into black 'n' roll territory like they've had one beer too many, Ghörnt has clearly decided that subtlety is for wimps. Instead, they happily shred through seven tracks in roughly thirty minutes of sonic devastation. It is reassuring to see that though J., the multi-talented "plays-everything" guy who among other projects also sits behind the drum kit in Aara, Ghörnt makes a conscious and mostly successful effort not to turn into a clone project. Rather than recycling ideas, they carve out their own niche, using brute force and sharp edges where others prefer mood lighting.

The title track "Bluegraf" opens the album and wastes exactly zero seconds before rupturing your eardrums. Two minutes in, several things become immediately clear. The drums unleash hell whenever the band goes into full blast mode, although the bass drum feels triggered to a degree that it might qualify as cybernetic. The guitars emerge as the strongest element, weaving memorable melodies into the chaos, while the vocals stop just short of fully crossing into death metal territory. The opener thrives on predictable but effective shifts in dynamics, alternating hard-hitting mid-tempo sections with merciless blasting, all while the vocalist shouts and growls like a demon who missed his anger management class.

"För Emmer" ("Forever") sticks to a similar formula but introduces a bit more variety, notably through a spoken-word passage that briefly dials the aggression down by a microscopic margin. Again, the song lives off the tension between melodic riffing and wildly unhinged vocal delivery. "Vlad" stands out as my personal highlight of the album. It charges out of the gate like a modern Dark Funeral tribute act before slowing down and playing with mood and dynamics. The guitar lines move between Swedish-oriented melodies and more pleading, almost desperate riffing. The vocals change gears, as the track dives headfirst into death metal growls, and a certain resemblance to early Belphegor is hard to deny. Fortunately though, Ghörnt manages to inject just enough variation to avoid sounding like outright plagiarism.

"Dominator" reinforces the impression that the Austrians had some influence on the band's sound. The constant switching in tonality between death metal growls and a more standard black metal pitch feels familiar, perhaps a bit too familiar, but it's executed with enough conviction to pass. The musical foundation proves that the band knows their craft. I need to point out the guitarist's work, who is shifting effortlessly between melodic tremolo picking and thicker, down-tuned riffs that hit hard. A final standout arrives with the closer "Hass" ("Hate"), a short but effective final assault that carries a distinct Marduk-like stench of scorched earth. It is the shortest track on an already too short album and features an interesting brief break midway through. Aside from that moment of restraint, it is full throttle from start to finish, with the vocalist nearly barking his lines over relentlessly fast drumming, as if trying to outrun the end of the record.

Three albums in, Ghörnt have clearly found their signature sound and, since album number two, learned how to clothe their music in a production that actually fits. The production packs a punch, and, with the exception of the bass guitar, everything finds its place in the mix. That the vocals do not fully convince me at all times should not deter anyone who enjoys black metal that occasionally teeters dangerously close to its death metal cousin from giving "Bluegraf" a listen.

Rating: 7.6 out of 10, because the album delivers consistent, well-executed sonic violence. Subtlety is clearly dead, buried, and mourned by no one here. Yet, a little less enthusiasm for blunt force trauma might have helped to create a more lasting impact.