If you stirred the ashes in the desolate hearth that was the remnants of Altars of Grief and Subside, praying fervently, you might find a coal. One glistering ember. Northern Graves shoulders the yoke of despairing Prairie metal and trudges deeper into that gloaming night having metastasized from Doom to Black. Now a one-man show, the ruined love and all-consuming isolation that were the hallmarks of Altars remain on full display. Still strong vocal debt to Type O, Woods of Ypres. Promising.