Artist: TodoMal
Album: Graveyards of Joy
Label: Season of Mist
Genre: Atmospheric Doom Metal / Cinematic Doom / Dark Rock
Release: 3 July 2026
Tracks: 9
Running Time: Approx. 43 minutes
πΈπΈπΈπΈπΈ 5/5 Guitars
There are album titles that tell you precisely what sort of journey youβre about to take.
Graveyards of Joy is one of them.
Beauty and death.
Happiness and grief.
Hope growing somewhere it really shouldnβt.
Welcome to TodoMal.
The Anglo-Spanish outfit emerged from eastern Spain in 2020 and have spent their career developing a form of doom metal that feels considerably bigger than simply slow riffs + sadness.
And on their third album, theyβve created something bloody special.
Graveyards of Joy is the closing chapter of a trilogy that began with 2021βs Ultracrepidarian and continued with A Greater Good in 2023.
But this final instalment carries additional emotional weight.
Written following personal tragedy, these nine tracks wander through grief, anger, isolation and eventually something approaching hope.
And TodoMal have built an enormous landscape around those emotions.
Hammond organ.
Desolate folk.
Cinematic strings.
Crushing doom riffs.
Moments of near silence.
Melodies stretching towards the horizon.
At times it feels less like an album and more like somebody dropped a doom-metal band into a Sergio Leone film and told them to soundtrack the end of the world.
Right then.
Black clothes on.
Lights down.
Letβs wander through the graveyard. πͺ¦π€
πΏ
Track Listing
- Mare Ignis
- Lucid Nightmare
- Point of Coalescence
- Misericordiah
- Unholy
- Deliverance
- Humanised Gods
- For Mercy
- Graveyards of Joy
πͺ¦
Track-by-Track Review
1. Mare Ignis
Graveyards of Joy doesnβt explode into existence.
It emerges.
Slowly.
The opening minutes immediately establish TodoMalβs enormous sense of space, allowing atmosphere to develop before the heavier elements begin tightening around you.
And when those guitars finally start carrying real weight?
Bloody hell.
Thereβs something deeply cinematic about Mare Ignis.
You can almost see an empty Spanish landscape stretching towards the horizon.
Nothing moving.
Nobody around.
Just heat, dust and riffs.
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2. Lucid Nightmare
The title perfectly describes the mood.
Thereβs something dreamlike about Lucid Nightmare, but underneath the beauty sits a constant sense of unease.
TodoMal understand that doom doesnβt need to bludgeon continuously.
Sometimes atmosphere does considerably more damage.
The melodic elements pull you forward while the darker textures make you increasingly suspicious about where exactly youβre being taken.
Spoiler:
Nowhere cheerful.
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3. Point of Coalescence
One of the albumβs strongest moments.
Point of Coalescence demonstrates how naturally TodoMal blend traditional doom heaviness with cinematic rock.
The guitars are enormous.
But theyβre surrounded by space.
Thatβs important.
Nothing feels overcrowded.
Every instrument gets room to breathe, making the moments where everything finally converges considerably more powerful.
Itβs heavy without simply becoming loud.
Massive without becoming ridiculous.
Beautiful stuff.
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4. Misericordiah
At under three minutes, Misericordiah is one of the recordβs shorter pieces.
And itβs perfectly placed.
After the widescreen scale of the opening tracks, TodoMal pull everything inward.
The atmosphere becomes intimate.
Almost fragile.
Itβs less a traditional standalone doom-metal song and more an emotional bridge.
A moment to breathe.
Although considering where we are, perhaps donβt breathe too comfortably.
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5. Unholy
And the riffs return.
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Unholy brings additional muscle into proceedings without abandoning the atmosphere that defines the record.
Thereβs a wonderfully dirty weight underneath the guitars.
The Hammond textures add depth rather than retro novelty, while the vocals carry exactly the required amount of desperation.
This is doom metal with actual movement.
Slow doesnβt mean stationary.
TodoMal understand the difference.
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6. Deliverance
Seven minutes and twenty-five seconds.
Right.
Put the kettle on first.
Actually, donβt.
Youβll miss something.
Deliverance is the albumβs longest track and one of its emotional centrepieces.
TodoMal allow the composition to unfold patiently rather than desperately sprinting towards a chorus.
Textures arrive.
Disappear.
Return.
The heavier sections feel enormous because of the quieter passages surrounding them.
And throughout everything runs the albumβs central question:
Can you actually move beyond grief?
Thereβs no easy answer.
Thatβs precisely why the song works.
Absolutely stunning.
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7. Humanised Gods
One of the albumβs more immediately accessible moments.
Donβt worry.
TodoMal havenβt suddenly gone pop-punk and started singing about summer holidays.
But Humanised Gods has a directness that separates it from some of the recordβs more sprawling compositions.
The melody gets under your skin quickly.
Yet underneath it sits the same darkness that hangs over Graveyards of Joy.
Catchy doom?
Yeah.
Apparently thatβs a thing.
And weβre here for it.
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8. For Mercy
Three minutes.
Quiet.
Fragile.
Devastating.
For Mercy feels like the moment after the storm when youβre finally able to examine whatβs left behind.
Thereβs restraint everywhere.
TodoMal donβt need to throw another enormous riff at you.
Theyβve already done the damage.
Instead, this penultimate piece creates space for the finale.
And suddenly the albumβs title starts feeling considerably heavier.
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9. Graveyards of Joy
And here it is.
The destination.
Nearly seven minutes of everything TodoMal have been building towards.
The title track feels like an elegy.
Not simply for people.
For places.
Communities.
Memories.
Things that existed and slowly disappeared.
Thereβs enormous sadness here.
But hereβs the important part:
Thereβs also light.
Not some ridiculous Hollywood ending where suddenly everything is fine.
Real grief doesnβt work like that.
Instead, TodoMal offer something more believable.
Acceptance.
Memory.
The possibility that something beautiful can exist alongside loss.
Thatβs why Graveyards of Joy is such a perfect title.
Joy doesnβt erase the graveyard.
It grows inside it.
A magnificent ending.
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π₯
The Breakdown
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Vocals β πΈπΈπΈπΈπΈ
Deeply emotive without becoming theatrical for the sake of it.
Thereβs genuine vulnerability throughout the record, particularly during its quieter passages.
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Guitars β πΈπΈπΈπΈπΈ
Huge when required.
But restraint is equally important.
TodoMal understand that one enormous riff surrounded by space can hit considerably harder than forty minutes of constant distortion.
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Hammond & Keys β πΈπΈπΈπΈπΈ
Absolutely crucial.
The Hammond gives the record warmth, depth and occasional psychedelic colour without turning the whole thing into a retro-rock exercise.
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Cinematic Elements β πΈπΈπΈπΈπΈ
The Morricone-like strings are inspired.
They give Graveyards of Joy its enormous widescreen identity.
π
Atmosphere β πΈπΈπΈπΈπΈ
Ridiculous.
You can practically feel the dry Spanish landscape surrounding these songs.
βοΈ
Songwriting β πΈπΈπΈπΈπΈ
Nine tracks.
Forty-three minutes.
Nothing wasted.
Everything feels connected.
π
Standout Tracks
π₯ Mare Ignis
π Point of Coalescence
π€ Deliverance
π For Mercy
πͺ¦ Graveyards of Joy
π
The Sound of Empty Spain
One of the most fascinating elements of Graveyards of Joy is its sense of place.
TodoMal arenβt writing about some imaginary gothic kingdom filled with castles and ravens.
Their landscape feels real.
The depopulated provinces of rural eastern Spain.
Ghost towns.
Empty communities.
Places where people once lived, worked, argued, loved and eventually disappeared.
That imagery gives the record enormous emotional power.
The emptiness becomes part of the music.
Long passages stretch towards the horizon.
Guitars appear like distant storms.
Strings evoke dusty western landscapes.
Silence becomes an instrument.
Itβs doom metal connected to geography.
And that makes Graveyards of Joy feel remarkably distinctive.
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Grief Without Surrender
The most impressive thing about this album isnβt its heaviness.
Itβs its honesty.
Graveyards of Joy emerged from personal tragedy.
And you can feel that.
But TodoMal donβt romanticise grief.
They donβt turn suffering into some theatrical gothic costume.
Grief here feels messy.
Angry.
Lonely.
Exhausting.
Sometimes quiet.
Sometimes absolutely enormous.
Yet crucially, the record keeps searching.
For meaning.
For connection.
For whatever comes after the worst thing imaginable has already happened.
Thatβs where hope enters.
Not as an easy answer.
As survival.
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The Riff Report Verdict
Doom metal has always understood grief.
But thereβs a massive difference between music that sounds sad and music that actually understands sadness.
Graveyards of Joy belongs firmly in the second category.
TodoMal have created something intensely personal without making it inaccessible.
You donβt need to know the exact circumstances behind these songs.
You simply need to have lost something.
A person.
A place.
A relationship.
A version of yourself.
Something.
Then this record starts making sense.
Musically, itβs equally impressive.
Traditional doom provides the foundations, but TodoMal refuse to remain trapped inside them.
Hammond organ.
Folk.
Cinematic strings.
Space rock.
Alternative darkness.
Massive riffs.
Near silence.
Everything belongs.
Nothing feels thrown in simply to demonstrate how clever everyone is.
And across forty-three minutes, the album gradually transforms.
It begins surrounded by darkness.
It ends still carrying that darkness.
But now thereβs something else beside it.
Light.
Tiny perhaps.
Distant.
But definitely there.
Thatβs Graveyards of Joy.
Not overcoming grief.
Learning how to carry it.
And somehow finding beauty growing among the ruins.
THE RIFF REPORT RATING
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5/5 GUITARS
Desolate. Cinematic. Crushing. Beautiful.
TodoMal have created far more than another doom record. Graveyards of Joy is forty-three minutes of grief, landscape, memory and hard-won hope β an album that understands sometimes the heaviest thing in the room isnβt the riff.
Absolutely stunning. πͺ¦ππ€π€
Michael is the founder, editor, and chief riff wrangler behind The Riff Report, an independent Welsh rock and metal publication built by fans, for fans. With a lifelong passion for loud guitars, unforgettable live shows, and the incredible community that surrounds rock and metal, he created The Riff Report to celebrate everything that makes the scene specialβfrom legendary headline acts and grassroots venues to rising bands that deserve to be heard.
A familiar face at festivals across the UK, Michael spends much of the year covering events including Download Festival, Bloodstock Open Air, Steelhouse Festival, Firevolt, Plumpton Revival, and many more. Whether heβs battling the Welsh weather on a mountainside, surviving a weekend in a muddy campsite, or squeezed against the front barrier with thousands of fellow fans, heβs always searching for the next great story to share.
As editor of The Riff Report, Michael writes festival guides, breaking news, album reviews, gig reviews, interviews, opinion pieces, nostalgia features, and behind-the-scenes stories from across the rock and metal world. His writing combines honest opinions, humour, and a genuine love for live music, bringing readers closer to the bands, festivals, venues, and people that keep the scene alive.
Michael is particularly passionate about supporting independent artists, local venues, charities, and the wider UK rock and metal community. He believes every band deserves a chance to be discovered and every festival has a story worth telling. Through The Riff Report, he aims to shine a spotlight on both the biggest names in rock and the future stars waiting to break through.
When heβs not writing or interviewing artists, youβll probably find him exploring festival campsites, photographing live shows, chatting with fellow fans over a pint, or planning the next road trip in search of more riffs, bigger crowds, and unforgettable moments.
Above all, Michael believes rock and metal are about more than musicβtheyβre about community, friendship, and creating memories that last a lifetime. Thatβs exactly what The Riff Report exists to celebrate.
Proudly Welsh. Proudly Loud. Always chasing the next great riff. π€
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