If I could end the year on something that resembled love, and not the aggressive, probationary version we tend to assign to bands whenever a lineup changes, it would require a confession that borders on the statistically irresponsible: an unreasonable amount of great music arrived exactly when it shouldn’t have. Pages of it. An amount so excessive it felt less like a coincidence and more like an apology letter from the universe. Because while 2025 operated like a sustained exercise in emotional strangulation, political rot, casual violence, and the weaponization of mental illness for content, music quietly refused to cooperate with the collapse. It kept showing up. I noticed. I owe it something.

The year belonged to Ozzy Osbourne in a way that feels almost biblical, which is strange considering Ozzy’s entire cultural assignment has been to exist as misunderstanding incarnate. He was never supposed to resolve cleanly. And yet, by the end of 2025, there was a near-universal recognition among lifers, dabblers, reality-TV bystanders, and even people who flinch at the word “metal”–that this was a life guided by purpose, sustained by love, and protected by something larger than irony. Ozzy’s arc no longer reads like a stack of tabloid clippings; it reads like grace earned through endurance. God’s love for Ozzy feels obvious now, not because Ozzy became safe, but because he stayed sincere. He showed up when disappearing would’ve been easier. He kept choosing music. He kept choosing people.

The most radical part was never the mythology; it was the family. The Osbournes didn’t sanitize him; they contextualized him. They reframed metal not as posturing, but as a bond. Watching that family love each other in public recalibrated how connection works in this culture. Between bands. Between fans. Between generations. It wasn’t weakness. It was proof. Metal didn’t suddenly feel less dangerous; it felt more human. And somehow, that made it stronger.

Because of Ozzy, it feels like the world finally stopped arguing about whether metal matters. There’s a quiet consensus now that it’s essential, not as a genre, but as a function. Metal exists to house people who don’t integrate smoothly, who understand beauty through friction, who hear honesty in distortion. The black sheep were never meant to become the flock; they just needed room to exist without apology. Ozzy gave them that room. The best part of 2025 was watching God’s love look loud.

Metalheads are still different, but not in the accusatory way that once implied deficiency. It’s different, like a prism, multiple angles, refracted light, contradictions that somehow still cohere. The hope was never that metal would go mainstream in spirit. The hope was that it would remember why it didn’t want to. This year confirmed something crucial: we don’t need to be simplified to be understood. We just need to be allowed to be honest.

As we move into 2026, everything below this point becomes a declaration, not a prediction.  It is also what I am looking forward to the most:

01) Lee Spielman / Trash Talk: New Music (Eventually, Definitely, Probably)

On December 31, Lee Spielman announced on X that new Trash Talk music will happen in 2026. The post was suddenly taken down, with nothing else confirming what is now a rumor. Spielman, announcing anything is less a press release than a cultural event for his friend group only. The blink-and-you-miss-it New Year’s Eve post–echoing a ghost message from last year-felt perfectly aligned with Trash Talk’s entire ethos: urgency without obligation, presence without permanence. What gives this dignity isn’t anticipation; it’s restraint. Trash Talk has always been about rational rebellion, the idea that chaos can still be principled. New music from them doesn’t even feel like a comeback or a cycle–it feels like a recommitment to community as an action, not a slogan. Punk that remembers why it mattered in the first place is metal-adjacent dignity at its rawest. If you think they are pretending to tease new outputs via ephemeral posts, they’re booked on the Not So Fun WKND festival run in mid- March 2026 alongside Foundation and Angel Du$t– so you can tell them that I sent you. 

02) Myke Terry: Volumes and Fire From The Gods

Vocalist Myke Terry will lead 2026 as a vocalist for both Volumes and Fire From The Gods. While this was revealed in 2025, it’s something to look forward to for touring and festival season, which comes into full swing in 2026. Two bands at once sounds like a joke until you realize this isn’t multitasking, it’s truly emotionally invested authorship. Volumes and Fire From The Gods back-to-back is less like a career expansion and more like a controlled experiment in tension and purpose. The dignity here comes from serious discipline and endurance–knowing when to compress, when to explode, and never confusing excess with meaning. When intention replaces optics, metal stops posturing and starts communicating.

03) Lionheart, Valley of Death II

Kicking off my year with my first album review, this Friday (9th), Lionheart’s new album, Valley of Death II, is one of the highly anticipated records for 2026. The album carries the dignity of a band that understands identity as something you maintain, not reinvent. Lionheart doesn’t have to put much effort into convincing you they still matter; on this album, they are acting as if that question was settled years ago. They stay true to their sound, their scene, and their original promise. They also kick off a headliner tour in Europe with Madball, Gideon, and Slope later this month.

04) Nanowar of Steel, Genghis Khan EP

Another early 2026 release, as early as this Wednesday (7th), is Nanowar of Steel’s latest EP, Genghis Khan. Comedy is risky in metal because it exposes intelligence. Nanowar of Steel treat absurdity like a scalpel, not a gimmick. This EP isn’t going to be parody; it’s going to be satire with perfect timing, which is harder. Metal reminding itself that it can laugh without collapsing is a sign of cultural adulthood. The album drops January 7 and will be followed by a tour, including unique “feet & greet” experiences. (Please don’t post pics)

05) Iotunn, Waves Over Copenhell

Yet another early 2026 release, Iotunn’s live record, Waves Over Copenhell, is set to arrive this Friday (9th). Atmosphere is often confused with vagueness. Iotunn build atmosphere like architects, not dreamers. Their live albums will knock you down if you stand in opposition. This whole album is weight without chaos, beauty without negotiation. They have this uncanny level of patience–letting space do work instead of filling it compulsively, imagine how that works live, especially when metal earns respect when it trusts listeners to feel instead of react- Iotunn are masters of that trust. The album drops this Friday (9th).

06) Archspire, Too Fast To Die

Not a January release, this one is set for the spring with Archspire’s new album, Too Fast To Die, scheduled to arrive on April 10, 2026. The general consensus is the most anticipated metal album. I concur. Archspire’s technical excess is paradoxically disciplined, bordering on monastic. Every note feels obsessed over, not flexed. The band pushes extremity so far it becomes a coherent worldview, reminding everyone that mastery is its own kind of humility. They drop the album and then hop on tour in April with Undeath, Crown Magnetar and Mutilation barbecue. 

07) Metallica M72 Tour Continues…

2025 ended with countless tour announcements. However, when it comes to Metallica, this is one of those tours you pray with your whole heart comes with a DVD, with ample behind the scenes footage, even though you can access a good majority of that content on the bands page. This M72 expansion leg of the tour kicks off on May 9 in Athens, Greece, with Gojira, Pantera, Knocked Loose, and Avatar.

08) Ov Sulfur, Endless (Century Media)

Back to January releases, Ov Sulfur’s new album, Endless, is scheduled to arrive on January 16th via Century Media. Knowing a younger version of someone adds emotional math to their success. Ov Sulfur isn’t just raging-it’s focused rage, sharpened growth. Ricky’s evolution gives this project its dignity: aggression that knows where it’s going. Metal is at its most honorable when it channels fury without losing self-awareness, and this record promises exactly that.

09) Sevendust Tours Europe and a little bit of America

Staying in January excitement, Sevendust kick off 2026 with a European tour followed by a spring U.S. run. First-time experiences matter more when they’ve waited this long. Sevendust function as living proof of a quiet theory: metal is closer to gospel than it admits. Not stylistically-spiritually. Communal release. The band kicks off a full-blown European tour from January 15 to March 5, then heads to the United States from April to September. And I’m just crossing my fingers they come to California. No pressure (I will be so disappointed).

10) Rob Zombie, The Great Satan (Nuclear Blast)

Moving to February with Rob Zombie’s new album, The Great Satan, out February 27, 2026, via Nuclear Blast. If you’re like me and you memorized “Dragula” at seven years old, you know it didn’t feel like rebellion-it felt like folklore. A Mother Goose rhyme themed by all the horror movies you couldn’t stop watching. Rob Zombie’s longevity is without dilution. His work has always understood spectacle as sincerity, and this album feels poised to soundtrack a prismatic year because it knows exactly what it is. Timeless.

Happy New Year! Don’t forget to buy it in vinyl…. jerks!

Jordeana Bell

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