<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom"><channel><title>At-the-Gates on vo.rs</title><link>https://vo.rs/tags/at-the-gates/</link><description>Recent content in At-the-Gates on vo.rs</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en</language><copyright>This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.</copyright><lastBuildDate>Tue, 24 Feb 2026 09:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="https://vo.rs/tags/at-the-gates/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>The Gothenburg Sound: How a Swedish City Rewired Metal's Melody</title><link>https://vo.rs/encore/the-gothenburg-sound/</link><pubDate>Tue, 24 Feb 2026 09:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>https://vo.rs/encore/the-gothenburg-sound/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Every so often a single city coughs up a sound so distinct that the geography becomes the genre. Gothenburg, the rainy industrial port on Sweden&amp;rsquo;s west coast, did exactly this in the early 1990s. A handful of young bands there took death metal, the ugliest and most extreme form heavy music had yet produced, and did something nobody expected: they made it sing. The result got labelled the Gothenburg sound, and its DNA is now so widespread that most metal fans hear it every day without knowing where it came from.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>