World Metal Weekly

November 4, 2025

Welcome to World Metal Weekly. A Metal Lair global series.

Brazil Edition — Week 2

Written By Chris Norris

Welcome to World Metal Weekly. A Metal Lair global series.

Brazil Edition — Week 2

We are the United Nations of Noise mapping the metal underground one region at a time.

Metal is a global language, but Brazil speaks it like wildfire.

From São Paulo’s suffocating concrete sprawl to Amazon-edge black metal communes. Brazil doesn’t echo other scenes… it mutates them. Here, riffs don’t freeze, they sweat, they rot, they rage.

Here are seven Brazilian artists proving that the South doesn’t follow the world’s metal pulse it accelerates it.

Metal Lair World Metal Weekly backstage pass style badge with WMW logo.
Brazilian death metal band Krisiun standing together in a studio setting, wearing black clothing with serious expressions.

KrisiunCentury Media Records

The fulcrum of Brazilian death metal

City: Ijuí, Rio Grande do Sul

Gateway Track: Ravager

Deep Cut: Dogma of Submission

Why them:

Because Krisiun didn’t join death metal, they re-wired it. Three brothers from Ijuí took the U.S. / Florida template and made it faster, meaner, dryer, all muscle, zero fat. Their discipline and refusal to soften the blade set the modern standard for speed-obsessed death. Without Krisiun, half the South American underground doesn’t sound the way it does.

Brazilian black metal band Mystifier standing in a dark studio, wearing corpse paint, spikes, and studded belts.

MystifierSeason of Mist

Brazilian black metal’s necromancer architect

City: Salvador, Bahia 

Gateway Track: Give the Human Devil His Due

Deep Cut: The Death of an Immortal

Why Them:

Mystifier didn’t just play black metal, they summoned it. Way before corpsepaint became an export commodity, these Bahian sorcerers were fusing ritual percussion, occult liturgy, and evil-as-texture into something that felt genuinely forbidden. This is the band Europe heard whispers about before they ever heard a note. And the wild part? They’re still potent under Season of Mist. Where others calcified into nostalgia, Mystifier still conjure the old chaos with intent. They’re not a retro act, they’re a surviving primordial source.

Black metal band Grave Desecrator posing in a dark studio, wearing leather, spikes, corpse paint, and aggressive expressions.

Grave DesecratorSeason of Mist

Rio’s feral, street-level black/death

City: Rio de Janeiro

Gateway Track: Sign of Doom

Deep Cut: Temple of Abominations

Why them:

Grave Desecrator is the sound of black metal dragged through concrete. No mysticism, no candles, no forest cosplay, this is urban blasphemy forged in sweat, traffic, and delinquent night air. They took the early Brazilian chaos tradition (Sarcofago > Sextrash > Vulcano) and made it even more feral, more degenerate, more physical. There’s no romance here. This is the roar of a city that never sleeps, doesn’t apologize, and doesn’t sanitize its ugliness. Grave Desecrator is what Rio looks like after midnight, violent, ecstatic, and holy only in the sense that a riot is holy.

Brazilian thrash metal band Nervosa posing outdoors under bare trees, with one member snarling at the camera and flashing the horns hand gesture.

Nervosa – Napalm Records

Brazil’s modern thrash expansion pack

City: São Paulo

Gateway Track: Kill the Silence

Deep Cut: Hostages

Why them:

Nervosa didn’t revive thrash, they weaponized it. Where most retro-thrash bands just chase old Bay Area riffs, Nervosa injects death metal muscle and modern production that actually hits. They’re proof that Brazilian extremity isn’t trapped in the 90s, it’s still mutating. And the global lineup shifts didn’t dilute them, it sharpened them. They tour like a war machine, and they play like they’re trying to punch a hole in the genre from the inside.

Black and white promo photo of Brazilian doom band Jupiterian wearing hooded robes and masks in heavy atmospheric fog.

Jupiterian – Transcending Obscurity Records

Funeral-sludge that feels like a planet collapsing

City: São Paulo

Gateway Track: Matriarch

Deep Cut: Capricorn

Why them:

Jupiterian don’t “riff,” they erode. Every song feels like a cosmic mass buried under oil-slick distortion and ceremonial tempo. Where Brazil is usually portrayed as fast, frenetic and violent, Jupiterian flips the stereotype: their heaviness is glacial, devout, frightening in the way ancient things are frightening. They’re proof that Brazilian darkness isn’t just adrenaline, it’s mass. Weight. Gravity. A black monolith sinking into molten rock.

Metal Should Never Be Safe

Brazilian power metal band Angra standing in a studio, five members dressed in black with the frontman pointing toward the camera.

Angra Reigning Phoenix Music

Brazil’s melodic/prog lineage – technique as transcendence

City: São Paulo

Gateway Track: Carry On

Deep Cut: Rebirth

Why them:

Angra is the counter-argument to the stereotype that Brazilian metal is only chaos, blast, filth, and raw attack. They took Brazilian rhythm DNA, fused it with European symphonic finesse, and made something neither side could have imagined on their own. They’re the country’s most influential melodic export — not because they’re “pretty,” but because they have vision. Angra is a reminder that extremity isn’t always speed or grime — sometimes it’s virtuosity sharpened to a blade.

Black and white promo photo of Brazilian crossover band Surra sitting on a cracked urban sidewalk in front of graffiti-covered concrete walls.

SurraBlack Hole Productions

Brazilian punk-thrash set on fire

City: Santos, São Paulo

Gateway Track: Sangue nos Olhos

Deep Cut: Escorrendo Pelo Ralo

Why them:

Surra isn’t “retro,” they are the living artery of Brazil’s hardcore half. The riffs come like beer bottles thrown from a moving car. Reckless, accurate and inevitable. They take the 80s crossover blueprint and strip it of cosplay nostalgia, leaving only speed, bile, and political flame. Surra is what happens when Brazil’s anger doesn’t get poetic or mystical, it just detonates.


Brazil doesn’t simmer, it detonates. From ritual chaos to asphalt blasphemy to tar-slow cosmic doom, this place proves heavy music isn’t a genre, it’s a pressure system.

Next week on World Metal Weekly we drop into a new scene, a new language, a new flavor of chaos because metal doesn’t care about borders, only decibels.

“Global noise. Local attitude. Every damn week.”

Next up: Greece Edition

Where black metal feels like old marble cracking under prophecy.

Not jungle heat, temple shadows. History bleeding back through distortion. Bands who treat riffs like curses… not entertainment.

Volume 3 lands next week. Silent steps. sharpened knives. ancient ghosts in the reverb. 🇬🇷

Missed last weeks World Metal Weekly where we travelled to Finland? You can find it right here.


World Metal Weekly FAQ:

Q: What is World Metal Weekly?

A: A guided tour through the loudest corners of the planet. One country per week, seven bands per stop, zero apologies for subjectivity.

Q: How do we pick the bands?

A: Taste, instinct, and a little chaos. The goal isn’t to chase hype, it’s to shine a light where the sparks are flying, whether anyone’s looking or not.

Q: Do I need a visa or a black-metal passport to follow along?

A: No paperwork required. Just headphones and questionable volume control decisions.

Q: Can bands submit music to be considered?

A: Absolutely. If you think your riffs can disturb the peace of a different continent, reach out. Worst case: we love it. Best case: we love it loudly.

Q: Does Metal Lair have any other weekly series like this?

A: Oh yes. If your appetite isn’t satisfied by one global feast, check out:

More noise. More discovery. More excuses to stay up too late with incredible music.

About the Author

Chris Norris is the voice behind Metal Lair’s global metal coverage, from funeral doom in the north to thrash born in the streets. Known for spotlighting bands before algorithms notice them and for writing with the precision of a scalpel… or a well-sharpened guitar pick. Vinyl collector. Night-shift journalist. Believes heavy music has no borders.