#apr26 — Public Fediverse posts

There was a time in my youth when bands like California’s Atreyu, Killswitch Engage and their ilk were all I wanted to listen to. Whether this was due to the novelty of the sound in its era, coinciding with my novice experience with metal as a whole, or perhaps the reflection of my own earnest angst resonating from the common themes of the scene, records like As Daylight Dies or Lead Sails Paper Anchor marked core albums in my metallic upbringing. However, with only two exceptions, I never kept up with any of these bands as time passed. My tastes shifted and evolved. For a time, I forgot entirely about Atreyu, until the itch to sing a few of their songs in the car became too much to bear. And so, when I saw Atreyu were not only still active, but about to release a new record aptly entitled The End is Not the End, I had to know how almost 20 years of time away changed my appreciation for Atreyu.

One thing that 20 years did not change was Atreyu’s style. Since my introduction to them with Lead Sails Paper Anchor, an album I still hold in high regard for better or for worse, they firmly entrenched their metalcore base with poppy beats, addicting choruses, and earnest, if ham-fisted, lyrics. Thankfully, they also boasted one of the better vocalists in a style hell-bent on employing whiny tenors with unrefined technique, both in harsh and clean styles. If anything, Brandon Saller has only gotten better with time and practice. The rest of the lineup shifted and swirled until settling into its current form in 2020,1 but other than a marked uptick in pop-centric songwriting, Atreyu preserved the core of their 2007 sound remarkably well.

This both works in their favor and leaves me cold. On one hand, killer hit-makers that are impossible to resist (“Break Me,” “All for You”) recall the shockingly effective simplicity of post-grunge-pop acts like Daughtry or Shinedown at their peak. On the other hand, a distinct lack of unique ideas or distinct identity for the vast majority of its 45-ish minute runtime (with the exception of “Ego Death” and “Children of the Light”) leaves me starving for something of substance. At times, as in the generic “Death Rattle,” small songwriting choices (the crowd-core “MOTHERFUCKER” shout being one) cause a minor recoil in my spine as it recalls the more embarrassing moments of my teen years. However, album standouts “Children of Light” and “In the Dark” evoke a legitimate callback to classic In Flames-style melodic death metal, rippling with energetic gallops and even a cool tandem guitar/saxophone solo. These songs don’t go so far as to abandon Atreyu’s pop sensibilities or cheesy lyrics, but they are big fun nonetheless and are sure to please crowds mightily.

Yet I struggle to recall anything from The End is Not the End once it… well… ends. As happy as I am pulling my favorite songs like “All for You” or “In the Dark” for playlist duties—which would eventually allow them to find purchase in my memory—I can’t help but stew in disappointment that nothing here sticks with the immediacy of past bangers like “Doomsday,” “When Two Are One” or “Falling Down.” I can appreciate that The End is Not the End is an altogether more hopeful and uplifting record compared to that angsty, bitter predecessor of my youth, but the shift in tone hasn’t helped the songwriting. On that front, The End is Not the End sounds like Atreyu going through the motions, spinning their wheels, and making very little forward momentum. In turn, I found very little here to grab onto and even less that grabbed me first.

I still want to go to bat for these guys. As many times as I’ve heard my comrades and co-conspirators belittle Atreyu, I can’t help but protect the soft spot I have for them. At the same time, The End is Not the End is not going to convince any of the naysayers, and hasn’t won me over either. There are great songs here with choruses that I would have a blast belting out at a drop of a hat. A couple of small sparks of unexpected heft remind me that Atreyu are, indeed, part of the metal landscape, albeit on the poppiest fringe of the core region. All in all, though, I’m not going to think at all about The End is Not the End 20 years from now. Alas.

Rating: Disappointing.
DR: Use Your Imagination | Format Reviewed: Streamfarm
Label: Spinefarm Records
Websites: atreyuofficial.com | facebook.com/Atreyu
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

Straddling the line between power metal and thrash, Anubis returns two years removed from their debut to unveil full-length follow-up Anthromorphicide. According to the promo materials,1 this translates to ‘the death of the human form,’ with Anubis mastermind Devin Reiche (Hatchet) clarifying that Anthromorphicide captures a band in flux as they ‘evolve in real time.’ Anubis formed back in 2018, and between then and now, they’ve released six EPs as well as 2024 LP Dark Paradise. The band maintains a steady course with Anthromorphicide, yet power thrash is niche enough that newer bands struggle to escape comparisons to its cornerstones (namely, Iced Earth). Given Anubis’ claim of continuously maturing their sound, how far do they extend past the limits imposed by themselves and the genre?

Anthromorphicide brims with influences and inspirations, yet Anubis transcends mere mimicry. Instead, they call upon dozens of bands to inform a love letter to the fusion of power and thrash. Most immediately, Anubis’ theatrics remind me of Helloween, with Reiche’s vocals sidling comfortably between Kiske and Mystic Prophecy’s R.D. Liapakis. Musically, Anthromorphicide traverses a varied landscape, covering the likes of Kreator’s rabid power thrash attack (“Anthromorphicide,” “Reptile Eyes”), Persuader’s sprightly riffing (“Nuclear Dawn”), and DragonForce’s knack for hooky choruses and histrionics (“Celestial,” “Battalion”). And going back to Iced Earth, “Ancient at Birth” could slot nicely into one of the Something Wicked installments. Even with all these reference points, though, Anubis manages to craft an engaging affair that injects the familiar into an original and diverse collection of songs.

Considering the lineup turbulence Anubis has weathered, Anthromorphicide evinces a natural progression. Each of their releases combines power metal’s anthemic songwriting with thrash’s chugs and aggressive riffing, and while Anthromorphicide is no different, it feels more vibrant and deliberate. Fun abounds when songs strong-arm listeners into singing along, such as the “Moonchild”like opening to “Ancient at Birth” or the candy-coated, synth-driven bop “My Favorite Cage,” elevated by Zhariah’s guest vocals. Anthromorphicide isn’t chintzy, singalong cheese, though, and Anubis adds plenty of heart and grit into the formula. “Celestial” conjures Follow the Blind-era Blind Guardian with kinetic drumming and furious riffing, while longtime bassist Will Buckley buffets with his buttery bottom-end. “The Arcanist” in particular highlights Buckley’s fluid grooves, recalling D.D. Verni’s (Overkill) in-your-face aesthetic. Through it all, Ulises Hernandez (Judicator) flits and wails in tandem with returning guitarist Justin Escamilla, ensuring a dual-axe flurry that rarely misses.

Anubis shimmers during Anthromorphicide’s best moments, yet small snags hold it back. The first and final thirds of the album bristle with energy and deft execution, but the middle third sags compared to the bookends. The opening triad purrs with engrossing riffs and memorable melodies, but “The Fire Inside” slows proceedings with a seven-minute ballad that stalls Anthromorphicide’s momentum. Slow, contemplative numbers have their place, but just because it’s slow doesn’t mean it should be long. Paces accelerate from there, but it’s not until “My Favorite Cage” that I’m properly back in the groove. And that’s not to suggest that the intervening songs aren’t good, mind—just that they lack the show-stopping moments needed to reignite the flames left smoldering after “The Arcanist.” On the production front, Anthromorphicide sounds a bit thin and glossy. The bass drum and toms, contributed by David Velez, work well, but the cymbals get buried in the mix while the snare sounds flat and lifeless. Anubis commits no glaring sins, but the sum total of the minor gripes inhibits the album’s staying power.

A single listen through Anthromorphicide exposes Anubis’ sturdy songwriting and technical chops, and my appreciation grows with each spin. Anthromorphicide presents a crisp forty-two minutes of power thrash drama that’s easy to get lost within, and despite its flaws, rewards return visits. Although Anubis weaves scads of references together, each track possesses a core identity, and while some are more memorable than others, it gives Anubis a secure foundation to build upon. If they can preserve what works, with a few small tweaks, Anubis could tip the scales and unload an undeniable power thrash triumph with their next outing.

Rating: Good
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: M-Theory Audio
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026