Release Date March 24th, 2026
Format CD
Genre Atmospheric Black Metal
Origin Greece
Born from the collaboration of two seasoned veterans of the Greek underground, From Distant Hills is the latest strike from Ungod and Throne. These two have spent years lurking in the shadows of projects like SAD and Necrohell, so they didn't need a roadmap to find their way into the heart of bleak, traditional black metal. This isn't some experimental project trying to be clever; it's a cold, calculated descent into the type of atmosphere that most modern "atmospheric" bands are too soft to actually capture. They’ve stepped out from their usual haunts to build something that feels ancient and weathered.
The debut album, "...And Whispering Trees", is a heavy dose of misery that focuses on a very specific, desolate vibe. It’s got that classic Purity Through Fire DNA, meaning it’s rooted in the old ways but doesn't sound like a dusty rehearsal tape from 1992. The production is clear enough to hear the melodies, which are surprisingly poignant for something this grim. You can tell these guys have played together in different capacities before because the chemistry is there, even if the world they're building is one of total isolation and ghostly silence.
Throne’s vocals on this record are something else entirely. He’s doing this "crying orc" style that sounds like someone being hollowed out from the inside. It’s a high-pitched, agonizing wail that might be an acquired taste for the casuals, but for anyone who worshipped the late Aaskereia, it’s exactly what the doctor ordered. It adds emotional distress to the music that standard growls just can’t reach. When he lets out those screams over the melodic guitar leads, it creates a contrast that stays with you long after the track ends.
Musically, the album prefers a steady, persistent pace. It doesn't rely on mindless blasting to prove its "true" status. Instead, it uses these long, winding guitar melodies that feel like they’re drifting through a frozen forest. Songs like "Veins Of The Mountains" and "The Wolf Of The Black North" take their time to sink in, using repetition to create a trance-like state. The riffs are spectral and thin, but they wrap around the listener like a shroud. It’s more about the sorrow and the folkloric spirit than it is about being the fastest or most aggressive thing in the record bin.
The length of the album is substantial, clocking in at fifty minutes across eight tracks. For a debut, it’s a lot to take in, but the consistency is high. The flow is steady, and it manages to maintain a specific "psychic headspace" throughout. It’s the kind of record you put on when you want to disappear into a landscape of ancestral winds and mountain peaks. There isn't much here for the sunny-day crowd, but if you’ve ever found yourself staring at a grey sky wishing for more gloom, this is a very respectable entry into the Greek black metal pantheon.
| 7.5
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