Sölicitör Enemy In Mirrors Review
Sölicitör
Enemy In Mirrors
Gates Of Hell Records
2025
If I wasn’t cursed as a half-assed writer, junkie of riffs, and lifelong fiend for the underground Metal scene, I’d miss out on half the good shit this planet pukes up. The normies want you to choke on whatever factory-polished garbage the radio shoves down your throat. Major Labels - don’t even get me started, most of those bastards aren’t hunting for the real deal, they’re just casting nets for their next payday.
Why am I foaming at the mouth about this? Because occasionally, an album barrels into my life and annihilates the safe, sterilized garbage the big labels are peddling. It reminds me why I still give a damn about Metal in the first place. Sad? Sure, I’m sad for all the bands busting their asses while the mainstream pretends, they don’t exist. But also fucking glorious. Because finding one of these records feels like eating the forbidden fruit of Eden. Once you take a bite, you’re never the same and you see and hear colors you didn’t beforehand.
Enter Sölicitör. A Speed Metal warhead out of the Pacific Northwest, and one of the few bands that still understands what the words Heavy Fucking Metal mean. Not cosplay Metal, not radio-safe “modern rock with extra distortion,” but the kind of fire-breathing American Metal that makes you want to bleed, puke, scream, and dive headfirst into the pit. The kind that raises the hairs on your neck like the first time you heard Dio wail, Savatage rip, or W.A.S.P. sing about their “Sex Drive”.
And here’s the kicker: I’d never even heard of them until now, see my rant above about labels and radio acting as gatekeepers of mediocrity. Their new release, “Enemy In Mirrors”, is technically their second full-length, and it slaughters with the force of a thousand armored tanks. This isn’t nostalgia bait from washed-up geezers trying to relive high school glory days. No, this is the kind of Speed Metal that convinced kids in the ’80s that Metal could save the world. And for me, it fucking did.
Let’s talk about vocalist, Amy Lee Carlson. Holy hell. If banshees, Valkyries, and feral wolves had a child together and set it loose on a mic, that’s what’s happening here. She shrieks, howls, and claws at the air like she’s starving and your dinner. Think Ann Boleyn (Hellion) and Maryann Scandiffio (Blacklace) with a dose of early Doro’s (Warlock) ferocity, then crank the voltage until your brain melts. She doesn’t imitate; she incinerates.
The music is a goddamn revelation. Spirited riffs, leads sharper than guillotines, and songwriting that doesn’t waste a single note. This is what I dig through promo piles hoping for. This is why I wade through oceans of mediocrity, because once in a blue moon I find a monster like this. It has Mausoleum Records time-capsule energy, with shades of New Renaissance fervor. It’s classic yet intense and familiar enough to be ferociously alive. If I had one gripe, it’s the mix, could’ve been brighter, but fuck it, my ears are already mangled from decades of abuse. Plus, I had ear surgery a few months ago, so I’m still recovering. Don’t take my word on the mix as Gospel.
No filler. No fat. Just Speed Metal perfection, warped through a carnival mirror and sharpened to a killing edge. If forced to pick stand out tracks, I’d go with “Black Magic,” “Devil’s Hand,” “Iron Wolves of War,” “Fallen Angel”, each one a rabid beast with teeth bared. This album will be gnawing on my skull the rest of the year, and it’s already cemented itself on my best-of list for the end of this year. I’m fucking pumped that there’s a band out there like this, a band that still bleeds American Metal, this is what it’s all about.
Vinyl/CD drops mid-September. Hit their Bandcamp, throw your money at them, and grab every goddamn thing they’ve put out. I already did and those records have been getting tons of spins since they hit my mailbox. When a band this good comes crawling out of the abyss, you clutch it, bleed with it, and scream with it until the end of days. This is why Metal will never fucking die.