Release date: May 26, 2025

In Poland, the city of Warsaw tells a tale of two hearts. On one hand, there is the stoic beauty of the Old Town with cobblestone streets, Gothic spires, and the echoes of centuries past whispering through amber-lit alleyways. It stands as a defiant monument to heritage, resilience, and the soul of a nation that has weathered fire and fury. Juxtaposed against this is the gleaming skyline of modernity, where glass towers, neon veins, and the pulse of a city are racing toward the future. All at once, Warsaw is a city in tension, harmony, and evolution.

This duality (old world reverence and new world ambition) finds a fitting echo in Poland’s metal scene. Long revered for its ferocity and depth, the country has birthed titans like Vader, Crystal Viper, and the genre-defining Behemoth. Beneath the shadow of these giants, there is a new generation rising. A movement of passionate, inventive bands is clawing its way into the spotlight, armed with riffs, rage, and reverence. Just like the skyscrapers of downtown cast their shadows over the traditions in old town, there is a legacy being born in metal.

Enter Witch Hound, a Warsaw-based trio forged in friendship and united to stoke the fires of the revolution. Guitarist and lead vocalist Konrad Czeredys, drummer Paweł Królikowski, and bassist Jakub Liszewski (both on backing vocals) channel the spirit of classic heavy metal while carving their own path through the doom-laden wilderness. Their debut album, Mountain Knows, is a bold declaration featuring eight tracks of raw, riff-driven power steeped in something dark and dangerous.

In a city where past and future collide, Witch Hound stands as a sonic bridge that honors the roots of metal while roaring into the unknown. Their debut album, Mountain Knows, is a statement: the hounds have been unleashed, and the mountain is listening.

Review

The album kicks off with its title track, “Mountain Knows”, which is a bold opener that wastes no time. A galloping guitar riff charges in, thick and aggressive, setting the terrain with classic heavy metal muscle. The song quickly finds its stride in a melodic groove that pulses like a heartbeat beneath the storm. Vocally, the track begins with a muted edge (it is more subdued than the instrumentation demands) but there’s a noticeable evolution. As the song unfolds, the vocals gain traction, shedding their initial flatness and rising with a newfound vibrance. By the midpoint, they lock in with the rhythm, adding grit and character. A juicy, well-placed solo then takes the reins, soaring through the final stretch and carrying the song home with conviction.

“Face of Our God” storms in with powerful drums and a hard staccato guitar lick that immediately commands attention. The rhythm section lays down a muscular foundation, driving the track forward with classic metal swagger. As the song builds into its chorus, there’s a glimmer of vocal promise. Fleeting moments where melody and grit begin to align, but the voice still struggles to fully match the intensity and precision of the instrumentation. It’s a tension that lingers, slightly muting the impact of an otherwise standout composition. Still, the track delivers where it counts: a strong, confident solo slices through the mix, elevating the song and reaffirming Witch Hound’s instrumental prowess.

“Flesh and Bone” enters with a riff that channels the hypnotic weight of Tool: a slow-burning groove that saunters in like a shadow at dusk. There’s a dark elegance to its pacing, a sinister swagger that feels both deliberate and dangerous. Vocals kick off strong here, finally finding their footing and riding the rhythm with confidence. It’s aggressive, but the kind of aggression that simmers rather than explodes, like a predator circling its prey. Midway through, the guitar solo slices through the gloom with a bright, cutting tone like a flash of steel against the storm. It’s a well-crafted track that stands out for its balance of menace and melody, and marks a turning point in the album’s vocal delivery.

The opening of “Throne of Lies” cuts like a serrated blade: sharp, deliberate, and full of intent. The drums begin with a pulse just off the beat, adding a restless energy that keeps the listener slightly on edge, while the vocals (more assured this time) cut through with a newfound clarity. This is where Witch Hound begins to hit their stride. The track shifts into gear with the confidence of a band finding its voice, fusing hard rock swagger with a classic metal flourish. There’s a mechanical precision to the arrangement, but it never feels sterile… this is a living, breathing metal machine, revving hot and hungry. The guitar solo soars with melodic flair, adding a flash of colour to the song’s otherwise gritty palette. “Throne of Lies” hints at the heights this band could reach when all cylinders are firing.

“Lust for Blood” creeps out of the shadows with deliberate menace, stretching nearly six minutes in a slow, calculated prowl. The riff is killer with it’s low-slung and muscular presence, evoking a sense of dread without sacrificing groove. Vocals are barked with conviction, raw and primal, matching the song’s sinister tone. The bass rumbles like distant thunder, clearly audible and ominous, while the drums hit with enough force to rattle teeth and shake foundations. Midway through, the track opens up into a breakdown that feels like a ritual pause, tense and expectant, before a lingering guitar solo rises from the gloom. It soars with clarity and purpose, casting light on the darkness while delivering a warning: something wicked this way comes. It’s a standout moment of pacing and atmosphere, proving Witch Hound knows how to wield restraint as well as fury.

Like a whisper on the breeze, “Ash in the Wind” begins with a slow, wispy guitar riff strummed with restraint, setting a mood that feels fragile and haunted. But Witch Hound doesn’t linger in the mist for long. The track soon erupts into a crunchy, aggressive charge, channeling the spirit of Blind Guardian through galloping riffs, layered vocals, and a tone that feels both epic and urgent. Midway through, the momentum falters deliberately. The breakdown slows to a crawl, teetering on the edge of collapse, as if the song itself is gasping for breath. Then, like a beacon piercing the fog, the guitar solo rings out—clear, soaring, and full of resolve. It’s a moment of resurrection, pulling the track back from the brink and reconnecting it to its aggressive core. “Ash in the Wind” is a masterclass in pacing and tension, proving that Witch Hound knows how to wield silence and fury in equal measure.

“Sinner” unfolds with a crisp, foreboding guitar line that signals the doom-laden dirge ahead. The track lurches to life like something summoned from the shadows… slow, heavy, and brimming with ill intent. Musically, it’s a masterclass in mood: eerie riffs, thunderous low-end, and a pacing that feels ritualistic. But the vocals struggle to find their place in this haunted landscape. There’s a tonal mismatch—where the music conjures dread and weight, the vocal delivery feels disconnected, unable to fully inhabit the darkness it’s meant to echo. It’s a jarring contrast that pulls the listener out of the spell. “Sinner” has the bones of something truly sinister, but the voice guiding it feels like it’s reading from a different book.

The closing track, “War Within,” begins with a haunting touch where guitars are plucked to mimic the toll of distant bells, setting a somber, ceremonial tone. Then, without warning, the song roars to life. Fast, crunchy, and brimming with urgency, it feels like a final charge into battle, determined to leave a lasting impression. The instrumentation is tight and aggressive, clearly out to prove something. But once again, the vocals falter. Delivered in a low, unassertive manner, they fail to rise to the occasion, undercutting the track’s intensity and emotional weight. It’s a mismatch that dulls the impact of what could have been a climactic finish. “War Within” had all the makings of a triumphant closer… but instead, it feels like a missed opportunity, leaving the listener with a sense of what could have been.

Conclusion

Mountain Knows is a lot like the city of Warsaw, where two forces are trying to coexist. On one side, there’s the band’s instrumental prowess: tight, expressive, and deeply rooted in the traditions of classic and doom metal. Musically, this album is a journey through everything that makes the genre great: crunchy riffs, thunderous drums, and solos that soar with clarity and conviction. The mix is impressive, revealing subtle flourishes in the guitars and key rhythmic moments that show real attention to craft.

But against this glorious metal tapestry, the vocals often sit back. Unfortunately, they are often lacking the grit, passion, or tonal alignment needed to fully elevate the songs. There are flashes of promise, especially in tracks like “Flesh and Bone” and “Throne of Lies,” where the voice begins to find its place. Yet elsewhere, particularly in “War Within,” the disconnect is too stark to ignore. It’s a missed opportunity to match the music’s intensity with vocal fire.

Lyrically, the album struggles to forge a personal connection. For a genre that thrives on mythic battles, existential dread, and cathartic release, the themes here feel underdeveloped. Whether it’s a delivery issue or a need for deeper lyrical refinement, the result is a lack of emotional resonance. I didn’t feel the weight of struggle, the grandeur of conflict, or the paradox of life and death that metal so often channels.

Still, Witch Hound has laid a strong foundation. The musicianship is there. The vision is forming. With time, refinement, and a deeper alignment between voice and sound, they could become a formidable force in Poland’s rising metal scene. Mountain Knows may not be perfect, but it’s a bold first step. Without a doubt, the mountain is listening!

TheNwothm Score: 7/10

Links

Bandcamp:https://witchhoundoom.bandcamp.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/witchhoundofficial

Instagram:https://www.instagram.com/witch.hound

Label:https://www.deezer.com/en/artist/323179141