Alkemia — Depulsus Review
From the haunted catacombs of Uppsala, Sweden, emerges Alkemia a solemn procession of pure Death Doom Metal, founded in 2023. On June 20th 2025, they unleashed their debut full-length, “Depulsus,” through Chaos Records—a descent into gloom spanning six hymns forged in ceremonial darkness.
The First Three Sins, The Summary
The Fourth Sin, Overall Discussion
Opening: Invocation Through Silence
As soon as the sound crackles to life—after the listener presses play—a hush descends. Not peace, but portent. Dormant and Macabre does not introduce Depulsus; it conjures it. Like the drawing of a velvet shroud from a forgotten altar, this first hymn stirs the ether. Strings toll like mourning bells. Bass hums with the voice of buried soil. Drums sound thick, deliberate, and funereal—echoes of a thousand forgotten wars. And the voice pierces the veil: guttural and gasping, snarled and whispered. Heaval does not sing; he channels, conjures, calls down.
The song creeps—solemn, spectral—an inauguration of gloom with sepulchral precision. One is not invited into Depulsus. One is claimed.
Procession of Gloom & Doomed Lineage
What follows is a relentless forty-minute journey through death-doom’s — a procession of six powerful hymns crafted from atmospheric darkness and bleak melodic gloom. These songs aren’t just songs; they feel like sacred rites. Each one echoes with despair, forged through careful attention to mood and darkness. They draw inspiration from a range of legendary acts: the bleak majesty of My Dying Bride, the cavernous heft of early Paradise Lost, the spectral, icy chill of Celtic Frost, and the unholy spirit of Black Sabbath.
Yet, even with these influences, Alkemia takes care to craft something distinct. Their music feels brooding, hypnotic, and rooted in a timeless darkness that refuses to fade.
Crafted in Gloom & Ritual
Alkemia‘s Depulsus is a fruit of art conjured in pure gloom. Its instrumental arrangements are precise, yet primal, striking a balance between technicality and raw emotion. Every guitar riff, every bass line, every drum beat, and every voice feels deliberately crafted yet instinctively driven — like a spell cast with skill and intent. Producing the record themselves gave them complete control over its raw, honest sound. Depulsus doesn’t aim for glossy polish; instead, it embraces a rough, authentic feel — more like a ritual than a slick production.
The mix favours spatial depth and infuses the low end with a saturated, echoing quality that makes each listen feel like entering a vast, cavernous tomb. This sonic choice mirrors the lyrical themes of decay, ritual, and death, creating an immersive experience that surrounds and swallows the listener.
Ghost Leads and Wailing Lament
Peter Laitinen’s guitar work serves as the album’s heart and soul. His riffs move slowly, echoing feelings of deep sorrow and despair. Occasionally, these riffs chug with heavy sadness, while other times they wail in mournful lament. Leads are drenched in reverb and delay, often surfacing like ghostly apparitions of long-forgotten rituals. Tracks like Lamenting Serenades of Eden showcase these ghostly leads vividly, creating a sense of the spectral haunting that runs through the album.
Listeners should attune themselves to those brief, haunting Black Sabbath moments within the riffs on Lamenting Serenades of Eden.
At times, tremolo picking conjures blackened, icy textures — a whispering storm beneath the mournful surface — yet these moments never overwhelm the overall mood.
Drums of the Forgotten War
Albaro’s drumming plays a vital role in shaping the album’s atmosphere. His approach is thick, organic, and thunderous, with drums that sound like distant war drums echoing through vast chambers. The toms and bass kicks resonate with weight, producing a sense of impending doom. Cymbal accents are sparingly used but carefully chosen, adding moments of tension before melting back into the mournful procession. Fills tumble rather than snap, adding to the slow, relentless march of the music — a sonic reflection of a sombre funeral procession.
Subterranean Pulse & Spectral Tones
Philip Borg’s bass is thick and brooding, typically shadowing the guitars with dark hums and subterranean grooves. Occasionally, that bass steps out more clearly, adding a layer of hypnotic darkness that draws the listener deeper into the album’s ritualistic soundscape. Subtle synth textures, mostly organ and piano motifs, drift through the background like ancient spirits whispering secrets. Their presence, especially in the opening of Lamenting Serenades of Eden, lends a layer of mysticism without diluting the raw, primal energy.
These touches (synths) echo the restraint of bands like early Paradise Lost or Saturnus, blending mystical allure with raw emotional force.
Voice of the Ritual Shaman & Rites of the Forgotten
Vocalist Heaval Bozarslan gives a performance that is as versatile as it is haunting. Shifting seamlessly from guttural growls to gasping snarls, from full howls of despair to quiet prayer-like incantations. His phrasing feels ritualistic, almost ceremonial, as though he’s summoning spirits from beyond. His delivery amplifies the emotional weight of each song, elevating simple lyrics into cries from the depths of despair. Heaval’s voice echoes with the weight of long-forgotten rituals, weaving in and out of the music like a shaman guiding souls through darkness.
No Experiment, No Ephemeral Flame
Alkemia is not a side-project, not a fleeting experiment, Depulsus is the fully realized debut album of a band carved from obsidian intent. A devilmanship that features members of long-running death metal cult Sarcasm: Heval Bozarslan (vocals), Peter Laitinen (guitars), Philip Borg (bass), and ex-Sarcasm drummer Alvaro Svanerö, now turning their gaze toward the cavernous depths of doom metal, exploring shadow, sorrow, and suffocating weight with purpose and poise.
Alkemia‘s Depulsus is a monolithic first statement: eight hymns of despair forged in atmospheric darkness and melodic gloom.
In sum, Alkemia‘s Depulsus is a monolithic fruit of art, a debut — a release forged in ceremonial gloom that will resonate deeply with fans of My Dying Bride and Paradise Lost, echoing the unholy spirits of doom’s old gods.
Closing: Sealing the Tomb — A Review in Ash
As Depulsus nears its final, echoing breaths, we extend gratitude to Chaos Records for allowing us to delve into the gloom and unveil Alkemia‘s ceremonial debut. Now, with the veil thinning and the procession reaching its end, we turn to the last three sins—and conclude this review as all rites must: in darkness, reflection, and reverence.
The Fifth Sin, The Memorabilia
The Sixth Sin, The Artwork
The Seventh Sin, Disrelish
Alkemia
Heval Bozarslan — Vocals
Peter Laitinen — Guitars
Philip Borg — Bass
Alvaro Svanerö — Drums