In a metal landscape that’s become increasingly genre-fluid and atmosphere-forward, Sgah’gahsowáh (Jon Krieger) – the creative force behind Blackbraid – stood out immediately. Krieger, the New York native whose Mohawk name means “The Witch Hawk”, had played guitar in various smaller bands for years before he set about establishing Blackbraid as a vehicle for his artistic expression. His 2022 debut Blackbraid I paired melodic riffing and raw emotion with an unmistakable sense of place, pulling from the landscapes and cultural roots of northeastern New York’s Adirondack Mountains. Its follow-up, creatively titled Blackbraid II, expanded that sound with cleaner, more muscular production and a wider sonic reach.
Now, barely a year later, Blackbraid III arrives – leaner, just as full of rampaging energy, and at times, more conflicted in its identity. While there’s very clearly still fire in the forge, the sparks fly with a little less intensity.
Opener ‘Dusk (Eulogy)’ sets a reflective tone, with a solitary guitar backed by a crackling fire building anticipation before the opening salvo of ‘Wardrums at Dawn on the Day of My Death’. It’s one of the album’s strongest tracks — tight, pummeling, and full of the melodic ferocity that first made Blackbraid compelling. The drumming, handled once again by Neil Schneider (who also recorded, mixed and mastered the project) is crisp and commanding, and the guitar layers cut through with purpose.
But that energy doesn’t always sustain. ‘God of Black Blood’, for example, is let down by uninspired mid-tempo riffing and a guest solo from Randy Moore that feels tacked on rather than earned. It’s a rare misstep in an otherwise solid tracklist, but it’s enough to disrupt the album’s momentum, particularly as it comes to an end in a lazy elongated fade out.
There’s also the matter of the album’s interludes and ambient passages — tracks like ‘The Earth is Weeping’ and ‘Traversing the Forest of Eternal Dusk’ gesture toward depth and atmosphere but ultimately feel more like placeholders than essential pieces of work. These contemplative asides are not without beauty in isolation, but placed in context they risk thinning the overall impact of the record.
That said, when Blackbraid III clicks and takes hold, it’s gripping stuff. ‘The Dying Breath of a Sacred Stag’ is another standout, building patiently with layered guitar lines and bursts of rhythm that recall the intensity of Blackbraid I’s most visceral moments. ‘Tears of the Dawn’ is a multi-phased rager that balances tempo changes and pedal-to-the-metal eruptions of aggression with a subtlety and control that hints at a even broader range still waiting to be fully explored.
Penultimate track ‘And He Became the Burning Stars…’ aims for grandeur but feels somewhat unresolved, more like a transition than a conclusion. As if to underscore this slightly unsatisfying denouement, closer ‘Fleshbound’, a Lord Belial cover, feels expendable and steps on what would have been a more satisfying sign off. And perhaps that’s fitting — this album lands less like a destination and more like an exercise in transience, caught somewhere between coalescence and untapped potential.
Blackbraid III doesn’t fully recapture the raw immediacy of the debut or the clarity of its follow-up, but it still delivers bright flashes of the power and presence that made this project worthy of attention in the first place. It’s a transitional record — not a misfire, but not a culmination either. There’s something still forming here. And in a scene often built on repetition and nostalgia, the willingness to keep pushing forward and evolving, however imperfectly, counts for a lot.