Review: Enshine – Elevation
Artwork by: Sebastien Pierre
Style: Death Doom Metal, Melodic Death Metal (Harsh Vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Saturnus, Draconian, Be’lakor, Fractal Gates, Insomnium
Country: Sweden / France
Release date: 3 January 2026
Before I discovered the musical (and ad-free) rabbit hole that is Bandcamp, my go-to way of discovering new bands or albums was to throw something familiar on YouTube and let autoplay lead me by the hand on a journey of discovery. And while this practice has netted me some all-time favorites like Silent Planet, The Wise Man’s Fear, and Dream State, there have been many more bands whose time was far more fleeting, if no less enjoyable. Albums whose contents exist as mere wisps haunting the fringes of my subconscious mind, ephemeral fragments that can be difficult to assemble into a full picture without the proper light to shed on it. “I know I’ve listened to Countless Skies, but which colored sky album was it? In Mourning had the monolith on the cover, right? Cold Insight seems familiar… or was that Enshine?”
Wait, it was Enshine! One look at the swirly nebulae on Singularity (2015) as I listened to their newest release, Elevation, and the memories washed over me like gentle waves—scattered still like seafoam, but coalescing into recognizable shapes around me as I let the band’s sublime blend of thundering melodeath and soul-searching prog doom float me along. Musically, the international duo of Jari Lindholm and Sebastien Pierre nestle somewhere in the nexus of death doom and melodeath, channeling the former’s predilection for atmosphere while the latter keeps the pace from freezing over. Eleven years have passed since I last swam in Enshine’s musical lakes, partially due to shifting tastes on my part, and a lack of new music on Enshine’s.1 But Elevation is here now. Let’s scale this summit together, and see if there’s more than nostalgia cascading down those shrouded peaks.
Anyone expecting a radical reinvention of Enshine’s core sound will want to find a different mountain to climb. Rather, Elevation feels like just that, an elevation of the band’s sound. There remains the same kind of winding riffs and dreamy central melodies as was found on Singularity, with keyboards that wouldn’t be out of place on a Neurotech album, but it all sounds tighter and more immediate. Some of that bears attributing to the production (handled by Lindholm), which sounds punchier than the somewhat looser mix on Singularity. Some may find the album over-produced, perhaps a tad too squeaky, but for my money, Lindholm has created a furtive bed by which all the instrumentation and vocals may rest upon and be heard. The drums crash just that much harder; the guitars feel empowered to speak to their introspective longings; and the keys flicker and gather confidently throughout like fireflies on a summer’s night’s hike, sometimes accenting a scene (“Heartbliss”), other times guiding it (“Distant Glow”). Of particular note is Marcelo Aires’ kitwork, which clatters and rolls with groovy little flourishes—always a plus in my book—often operating as a musical eddy for my ears to circle. On the vocal front, Pierre’s growls are largely monotone in form but remain effective in function; while variety is the spice of life, melodeath has proven more than a few times that there’s nothing wrong with good ol’ meat and potatoes.2
A sense of adventure permeates much of Elevation, though perhaps “journey” is the better word. This is not some heroic quest to vanquish a long-standing evil and free a woebegotten kingdom. Rather, Elevation evokes the feeling of journeying within oneself, climbing the figurative mountain of the soul to accompany the literal one depicted in the album art. Lindholm’s guitar sets the tone, moving from wending introspection to surefooted energetic riffage to soloing that feels like an outstretched hand straining to grasp the warmth of understanding. Keyboards often walk hand-in-hand with Lindholm’s central energies (“Where the Sunrise is Felt”), even skipping ahead on occasion to lead this sun-dappled hike (“Distant Glow”). Elevation walks similar shaded woods as those trudged by Countless Skies and Be’lakor, steeped in hard-earned discovery and pathed by a resolute—but never relentless—pace. Moments of reflection and calm unfold organically via Lindholm’s twinkling guitars and cosmic keys, evincing a weary journeyman taking a much-needed respite, allowing the trudge of footfalls and labored breathing to fade away against the ultimate serenity of the natural world.
Where Elevation stumbles into a valley is simple, and shallow, at that: for all the album’s quiet majesty and hypnotic charms, when the music stops the spell is dispersed, and nary a note or melody lingers in my mind. However, before you critique or capitulate to my take, allow me a counterpoint. I think, generally, we put far too much stock into “memorability”, to the point where if something lacks immediate staying power we dismiss it—and often diminish, as well. We’re so fixated on what comes after that we tend to rob ourselves of what we’re experiencing in the moment. And moment to moment, Elevation is nothing short of pleasant and present, the kind of “easy listening” melodeath that was all my rage in the late 2010s. Enshine aren’t moving the needle here, but they have refined the fuel. Or to stick with the hiking analogies, they’ve strapped on a pair of reliable boots, repaired and polished up for the trek. And sometimes what you really need for a tough hike is something comfortable and familiar to help you along the way.
Recommended tracks: Heartbliss, Where the Sunrise is Felt, Distant Glow, Reignite
You may also like: Shores of Ithaka, Novembers Doom, Slumber, Duskmourn, Countless Skies, Cold Insight
Final verdict: 7.5/10
Related links: Bandcamp | Facebook
Label: Independent
Enshine is:
– Jari Lindholm (guitars, keyboards, backing vocals)
– Sebastien Pierre (vocals, keyboards)
With guests:
– Giannis Koskinas (bass)
– Marcelo Aires (drums)
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