Red Cain has been with us off and on for some time. The RMR crew first got wind of this Calgary-based outfit back in 2016, some 10 years ago, when their self-titled EP aired. It was a funky piece and somewhat new territory for a still young-ish zine. But, truly, the power prog fueled flamboyance and outstanding musical prowess started to impress us back then already. A trend that continued over the years and to this day.
But then, some three years later, in 2019, the outfit hit our roster with Kindred: Act I, a record that still plays on our internal playlist from time to time. A rough-hewn, tasty example that used raw power to ram their idea of metal down everyone’s throats. A delicious yet somewhat rambling juggernaut of a metal offering. A record of genre-defying moments that drew us to it like a bear to wild honey hidden in trees. But it was also one that got on Kobra Paige‘s1 radar for their last track Wing of the Crow. And let’s not forget the unholy obsession with Juliet and her ghostly tall tale. This whole situation culminated in RMR security guards calling this gaggle of misfits over at the office tower to order.
Red Cain weren’t done yet, of course. A mere year later, and Kindred: Act II really got them the international acclaim they deserved. Already, the 2019 piece landed them a bunch of praise, but this one really took the cake. A band on a mission, this new record really showed off some new skills, honed in the brutal fires of Slavic paganism and Veles’ merciless fury. RMR fondly remembers Kindred, Demons, and specifically The Precipice of Man. Three tracks that the RMR crew still likes to twirl on one of our backroom turntables when the mood takes us. And whilst the drive and freshness still abounded with one Evgeniy Zayarny in fine form, this crew didn’t find any zesty Juliet moment that would have brought out our rowdier side.
2023 brought us NÄE’BLiSS. A new, more ‘experimental’ version of the power prog bonanza we enjoyed on their former baroquely buoyant and snappy disks. A harsher sound greeted us with some gusto, garnished with a female growler, and a redirect into progressive territory for long stretches. To the point that our backstage staff went looking for Caligula’s Horse somewhere in the props. Red Cain propped this up further with excursions into Technical Metal and – Loki help us – Metalcore of all things. Said differently, this record ended in a still proficient but more uneasy mix of what came before. And the old geezers at the RMR Review Desk were and remain to this day underwhelmed with the growling prowess of Kalie Yan,2 their then brand new second vocalist and mistress of da bass. Case in point, Red Cain announced at the end of January 2026 that Brendan Doll, you know, the axeman and beer guzzler in Kindred: Act I, will return to bass duty immediately.
So, Red Cain, where art thou? Nowhere around here, as far as the folks over at the office tower are concerned. After NÄE’BLiSS left the building, the band went incommunicado. They continued to operate with a nondescript single or two per year and a bunch of shows on the menu, though. But as to this restless gang, addicted to high-octane metal fare, it is as if they fell off a cliff in the Canadian outback and never returned.
But then, nothing is ever lost forever, right? After all, they still boast about – and I quote “…vodka, Veles, victory…” and a thing called “…melancholy and rage.” All of that is seemingly fueled by a “…technopagan angle…”3 and their “…Eastern European roots…”, haunted by “…Lovecraftian wrongness.” Holy moly, sounds like a plan, doesn’t it? Let’s just hope that those confusing elements will coalesce into a coherent set of tracks. Some time in the future, in a tentacle-fueled dystopian landscape. But then, they’re Red Cain and are known to make things work that shouldn’t. As to this crew, we’ll be lighting on other alluring metal objects like some venomous fireflies from hell until that happens.
Stay tuned.
The Odd Footnote!