Nuclear Blast
19/09/25
Words by Greg Walker
Paradise Lost are experiencing a sustained Renaissance period in their creativity. Approaching the 40-year mark, their trajectory shows no signs of stemming the tide of exemplary Gothic Doom Metal. They know what they do well and pull it off with calculated precision, drawing on all their years as pioneers and trailblazers in the genre-specific and broader metal scenes. Having flirted with commercial dalliances in the late 90s and early 00s, Paradise Lost have found a harmonious balance between the melodious and the depressingly crushing, consistently releasing exceptional works over the last sixteen years.
As good as their most recent LP was, I didn’t exactly gush over the anniversary re-recording of Icon 30. However, the process of relearning those iconic songs in minute detail proved a fruitful endeavour in as much as it set the scene for the writing of new album Ascension. Cementing the band’s mindset firmly back in the early to mid-1990s, the result is a truly expansive work rooted in the hallowed Shades Of God/Icon era.
As soon as Serpents On The Cross’s cacophonous drop gut-punches me, I’m home. Magnificently melancholic, Greg Mackintosh’s guitar is already wailing in despair, sweeping us away on a riptide of sound dispatched through his full-bodied production, accentuating the crushing lows and crystal-clear highs and delivering a warm, enveloping embrace. I would have been happy to lumber along at the opening pace, but we break into a Pity The Sadness gallop, and it’s not the only instance on the album where we hark back to the band’s classic attributes. When the opening track leaves me in darkness and swirling winds, it’s confirmation that this band is truly still a force to be reckoned with.
The immediately following Tyrants Serenade melds the One Second era with the Icon heaviness; few bands could pull off drawing from their own material with such legitimacy, to the point it gives me goosebumps. A colossal melodic anthem, boasting some imposing vocals from Nick Holmes, who throughout Ascension runs the gamut of brutal gut-deep strains to frankly beautiful soaring climbs. By the time Salvation finds me, I’m shaking my head in disbelief at how a band can still be this good so deep into a career when many others run out of creative steam within a much narrower period. Paradise Lost don’t write songs; they sculpt elegies to excellent effect, plodding ominously between quietened moments of composure, dancing between stanzas with meticulous intent. There are many exquisite little details throughout, such as the momentary crash back in at Salvation’s halfway point.
Savage Days is perfect, just as ambitious as Obsidian’s Darker Thoughts, but much more subtle. An immediate contradiction, Savage Days starts off in the most delicate fashion, expanding via layers of refined elegance, perfectly coiled tension wonderfully restrained, capped off with a career-best vocal performance from Nick Holmes. Over 30+ years Holmes has honed his craft and utilised his instrument to perfect effect in so many instances, yet Savage Days is his peak; the way his deep, earthy timbre naturally conveys the forlorn longing, almost pleading tone, just blows me away. Mackintosh’s Savage Days solo is a sonic journey, as all his leads are, ferrying us to the depths of our souls. Throughout Ascension, Mackintosh’s melodic guitar lines slide between riffs and vocal lines like a naked body between satin sheets, a natural sultriness that arouses the senses yet ultimately leaves one writhing alone, pinned down by the sheer heaviness of ethereal loneliness: His sound is intrinsic to Paradise Lost.
Special mention to The Precipice, which contains a phenomenal, extravagantly mournful solo, and Lay A Wreath Upon The World, simply epic aural tomes amongst an album of affecting material.
Having embedded themselves in the early material during the recording of Icon 30, the influence on their songwriting is blatantly obvious and warmly welcome. But at its heart, Ascension embraces all that is modern Paradise Lost; the band doesn’t rest on its laurels or past glories, instead using them to enhance their sound entirely. Ascension is a master class in Gothic Doom, despondent acoustics versus crushing drudge overlaid with the melancholic embrace of Greg Mackintosh‘s doleful sonic sonnets. The payoff is a more diverse album than the antecedent Obsidian, which, in my humble opinion, was perfection and a modern Paradise Lost classic.
Ascension has all the ingredients of 2025’s album of the year, and a more than worthy follow-up and companion piece to its predecessor. When considering Paradise Lost’s natural progression since 2009, the mind boggles as to what could come next…
