Out April 10, 2026
Via Adirondack Black Mass
Words by: Courtney Stark
Some bands fade. Others collapse under their own weight. And then there are those that die — only to be dragged back, reanimated with something far more bitter running through their veins. SICARIUS fall firmly into the latter.
Formed in 2014 with a clear intent to channel the fury and violence at the core of black metal, the band built themselves on a foundation of first and second wave worship, laced with a distinctly American aggression. What followed was a steady ascent — early releases, relentless touring alongside names like Marduk, Goatwhore, and 1349 — before the inevitable fracture. Line-up changes, departures, and the slow erosion of momentum eventually left the band as something effectively lifeless. SICARIUS was dead.
But death, in this space, rarely holds. After years of silence, guitarist Argyris and bassist Carnage reconnect — not to revive what was, but to rebuild it entirely. What emerges in Nex is a ten-track testament to death, rebirth, and unrelenting vengeance. With a new voice in Akefalos and a sharpened vision, the album takes shape as something far more than a return: a ten-track descent into loss, retribution, and controlled violence, pulling from the old world while refusing to be confined by it.
From the opening moments, it’s clear this is no casual resurrection; every riff, every drum hit, every growl is deliberate, precise, and dripping with anger. Track two cranks the intensity further, twisting first-wave Scandinavian tremolo with jagged, almost American aggression. The rhythm lunges forward with mechanical precision, while Akefalos’ vocals cut through the chaos like a blade. It doesn’t just demand attention — it drags the listener deeper into the album’s noir-like descent of loss and retribution, echoing the icy, relentless weight of iconic second-wave Norwegian black metal.
By the time the final track arrives, Nex has done more than resurrect a band; it has exorcised its past, burned through its ashes, and emerged sharper, colder, and more violent than ever. The album closes not with resolution, but with a lingering shadow — proof that SICARIUS never stayed dead, and neither did the fury that drives them.
