Colorado prog quartet, Dreadnought, are relentless in their quest to create unique music. What makes them so intriguing is how they make this feel so seamless. Their sixth album is not four people writing endless formula in a bout of hypomania while personalities clash and egos can’t take any more. Wars of Spirit // Wards of Light flows like a river finding the sea. They call it “world building metal ethereal,” which is the only pompous thing you can hold against them. There’s no doubt they inhabit their own musical universe.
It’s refreshing to hear a prog metal band find a tempo and purpose from the first note of the opening track, ‘Tiamat’s Gate’. Kelly Schilling is the dominant focal point here with her angelic voice matching the enchantment of the guitar arpeggios. You can also hear a second axe desperate to break through with a cloudier distortion after two minutes. Listen to how Jordan Clancy threatens turbulence with a brief flurry of eighth notes on his double kick pedal. There’s no obvious code to decipher here, and that’s what makes it so compelling. At what point did this song turn into an incantation built around tom drums and vocal keening? They might encroach on dream pop in a few glimpses of glorious solitude, but this music turns into a nightmare at the five-minute mark when the drums accelerate into skank beats and the sliding power chords sizzle. Enter co-vocalist and guitarist Ryan Sims, who takes over for a finale of expressive black metal. The post-punk chord choices that follow this eruption of violence will leave you with pursed lips.
The charm of this record is its ability to transport you to a sultry setting where lit candles, silk robes, and jugs of red wine surround you. Track two, ‘The Archive’, is another vigorous thrill of gothic erotica constructed from hypnotic drum patterns and divine soprano melodies. You don’t need hallucinogenic drugs to be ensnared by its spell. The most surprising feature is the prominence of the keyboard strings in the musical arrangements. These are perfect for Schilling’s pining vocals. Ryan Sims’ baritone contribution in ‘Colors of Our Broken Hearts’ will remind you of the male-female textures of Lycia. The difference here is the emphasis on the electric guitar as a key component of the celestial musical shapes. Whether post-punk, post-metal or melodic black metal, the colours stream into each other with effortless ease.
The level of musicianship is high when you analyse the actions from the drum stool. How does Jordan Clancy add groove to ‘Serpents of the Moon’ with so much space around him? The choral keyboards guard Schilling from above like a protective shrubbery. She has no trouble belting higher when the Neurosis-style riffs push through the surface tension. How and why they follow this with delay-effect guitars and programmed drum ‘n’ bass beats will baffle many, yet the result invites repeated listens.
Implying logic onto this type of art is wrong. Let it guide you rather than devote too much cerebral time to picking it apart. It will make the synth-driven schizophrenia of ‘Aeonwar’ even better if you allow it to surprise you rather than trying to predict its next move. Indeed, the sharp left turns into dissonant metal reveal that Schilling can roar with the best in the business. Clancy cannot let the moment pass either. He adds every fill and offbeat groove he can think of into this melting point. The symphonic climax at the midway point will leave you with twitching fingers and straining neck muscles. Only one criticism emerges here: two minutes and twenty seconds is a long time to dwell in limbo after treating the listener to such an epic fury at 04:40. A second playback is more gratifying when you realise their aim is to let Schilling push her way through the sodden earth at the end in full lung despair.
You’re not sure if you want it to stop or extend beyond its thirty-nine minutes when you reach the last track. There are so many glistening timbres in ‘The Twilight Protectorate’ to turn the canvas into a splash of watercolours. Palm-muted chugs sit next to gallops and abstract phrasings while synthesisers loop around the gaps like symmetrical smoke patterns. “My soul is not for you to take,” declares Schilling when the instruments reach their breaking point. Even this doesn’t stop one more flurry of tremolo picking and agitated drumming before they end it on a lingering flute note.
Who is this remarkable band, and why are they unknown?
Kirk Houghton
Verdict
Release Date: 11/09/2026
Record Label: Vesperian
Standout tracks: Tiamat’s Gate; Serpents of the Moon; The Twilight Protectorate
Suggested Further Listening: Katharos XIII – Cthonian Transmissions (2022), Cold in Berlin – Wounds (2025), A Forest of Stars – Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface (2026)