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https://www.europesays.com/uk/921785/ Armed for Apocalypse – The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me Review #25 #2026 #AmericanMetal #Apr26 #ArmedForApocalypse #BetterLovers #ChurchRoadRecords #Converge #Entertainment #Eyehategod #music #Nails #Review #Reviews #Sludge #TheDillingerEscapePlan #TheEarthIsBreathingBeneathMe #UK #UnitedKingdom

Sludge purveyors Armed for Apocalypse have little interest in fitting neatly into a scene or pandering to an audience. They lack both the time and the inclination. What they do have is relentless drive, a mountain of riffs, and a spirit forged through lived experience and hard-earned endurance. The Portland-by-way-of-Chico quartet has learned its lessons the hard way over 17 years and 3 LPs, cutting their teeth on the road, betting on Kickstarter campaigns to fund tours, and grinding it out night after night. That pathos bleeds through every pore of their music. 2022’s Ritual Violence was a distortion-soaked, relentlessly heavy effort rooted in the likes of Eyehategod, even if its uniformity somewhat blunted its impact. Fourth LP, The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me, is no different, thriving on sheer physicality and a firm commitment to a clearly defined approach that remains Armed for Apocalypse’s bread and butter.

If you’re in the mood for a good ol’ fashioned chug-fest, Armed for Apocalypse is here to deliver. The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me locks into its identity early, delivering big, lumbering grooves that bulldoze the listener with sheer physical force. “Fists Like Feathers” and “Ashes of the Night” announce their arrival immediately with huge down-tuned riffs and distorted drawls dipped in djenty flavors, while “Spellbound,” “Keep Up Appearances” and “Lost Without a Light” pick up the pace with simple but effective Converge-esque hooks and breakdowns that feel designed to move bodies. Drummer Nick Harris absolutely hammers his kit, driving this sludgernaut1 forward with obliterating momentum. Nate Burman’s vocals split the difference between Greg Puciato’s (The Dillinger Escape Plan, Better Lovers) unhinged howls and Phil Anselmo’s tough‑guy roar, never wavering from his acrid delivery or venturing from his tonal range. You won’t find any flash or frills here, just straight, unchecked fury, and these lads execute it with confidence.

While The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me maintains an intense, uncompromising core, its narrow scope limits its upside. Fueled largely by rigid structures and an overreliance on recurring songwriting formulas, Armed for Apocalypse’s consistency can be appealing in short bursts, but over time, the group’s approach causes tracks to blur together. From “Lost Without A Light” through “Lurk,” the record delivers a run of pit-inducing cuts that are lean, direct, and effective, but repeated, tropey breakdowns funnel each track back into the chug factory. It reinforces the sense that The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me could have benefited from bolder, more creative risks. Penultimate song “Bathed in a Tepid Pool of My Own Filth,” functions as a four-minute interlude of resonant, open string drones, offering little relief from the textural wash percolating throughout, particularly after tracks like “Beyond the Mirage” or “Immortal” have already bludgeoned you into submission with similar through-lines.

However, scattered moments of variety across The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me provide evidence that Armed for Apocalypse aren’t purely one-trick. Crestfallen verses and brief melodic passages (“Immortal”) and moments of vulnerability (“Beyond the Mirage,” the title track) suggest more nuanced songwriting, but they surface too sparingly to lift the record from its murky haze. Elsewhere, “Fist Like Feathers” shows the group’s songwriting chops with a strong bout of riffs and hooks that are memorable from the start, while “Lurk” cycles Nails-like assaults before predictably reverting to metalcore breakdowns. Kurt Ballou’s (Converge) production gives everything a massive, polished heft,2 emphasizing Armed for Apocalypse’s crunchy, blue‑collar ethos and ensures that each pummeling section does its best to batter you until you’re bloodied and broken.

The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me isn’t a record that invites deep emotional attachment so much as it aims for raw force. When Armed for Apocalypse allows themselves room to experiment, The Earth Is Breathing Beneath Me hints at something more. Those moments underline that Armed for Apocalypse has the talent and discipline to push beyond sheer heaviness. Their yeoman identity, relentless energy, and willingness to get in and get out without excess flash work to their advantage in many respects, and that authenticity can be enough to satisfy. But I can’t help but crave more. Regardless of my desires, The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me never pretends to be more (or less) than what it is and is ultimately content to stop right there.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Church Road Records
Websites: armedforapocalypse.bandcamp.com | armedforapocalypse.com | facebook.com/armedforapocalypse
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

Sludge purveyors Armed for Apocalypse have little interest in fitting neatly into a scene or pandering to an audience. They lack both the time and the inclination. What they do have is relentless drive, a mountain of riffs, and a spirit forged through lived experience and hard-earned endurance. The Portland-by-way-of-Chico quartet has learned its lessons the hard way over 17 years and 3 LPs, cutting their teeth on the road, betting on Kickstarter campaigns to fund tours, and grinding it out night after night. That pathos bleeds through every pore of their music. 2022’s Ritual Violence was a distortion-soaked, relentlessly heavy effort rooted in the likes of Eyehategod, even if its uniformity somewhat blunted its impact. Fourth LP, The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me, is no different, thriving on sheer physicality and a firm commitment to a clearly defined approach that remains Armed for Apocalypse’s bread and butter.

If you’re in the mood for a good ol’ fashioned chug-fest, Armed for Apocalypse is here to deliver. The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me locks into its identity early, delivering big, lumbering grooves that bulldoze the listener with sheer physical force. “Fists Like Feathers” and “Ashes of the Night” announce their arrival immediately with huge down-tuned riffs and distorted drawls dipped in djenty flavors, while “Spellbound,” “Keep Up Appearances” and “Lost Without a Light” pick up the pace with simple but effective Converge-esque hooks and breakdowns that feel designed to move bodies. Drummer Nick Harris absolutely hammers his kit, driving this sludgernaut1 forward with obliterating momentum. Nate Burman’s vocals split the difference between Greg Puciato’s (The Dillinger Escape Plan, Better Lovers) unhinged howls and Phil Anselmo’s tough‑guy roar, never wavering from his acrid delivery or venturing from his tonal range. You won’t find any flash or frills here, just straight, unchecked fury, and these lads execute it with confidence.

While The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me maintains an intense, uncompromising core, its narrow scope limits its upside. Fueled largely by rigid structures and an overreliance on recurring songwriting formulas, Armed for Apocalypse’s consistency can be appealing in short bursts, but over time, the group’s approach causes tracks to blur together. From “Lost Without A Light” through “Lurk,” the record delivers a run of pit-inducing cuts that are lean, direct, and effective, but repeated, tropey breakdowns funnel each track back into the chug factory. It reinforces the sense that The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me could have benefited from bolder, more creative risks. Penultimate song “Bathed in a Tepid Pool of My Own Filth,” functions as a four-minute interlude of resonant, open string drones, offering little relief from the textural wash percolating throughout, particularly after tracks like “Beyond the Mirage” or “Immortal” have already bludgeoned you into submission with similar through-lines.

However, scattered moments of variety across The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me provide evidence that Armed for Apocalypse aren’t purely one-trick. Crestfallen verses and brief melodic passages (“Immortal”) and moments of vulnerability (“Beyond the Mirage,” the title track) suggest more nuanced songwriting, but they surface too sparingly to lift the record from its murky haze. Elsewhere, “Fist Like Feathers” shows the group’s songwriting chops with a strong bout of riffs and hooks that are memorable from the start, while “Lurk” cycles Nails-like assaults before predictably reverting to metalcore breakdowns. Kurt Ballou’s (Converge) production gives everything a massive, polished heft,2 emphasizing Armed for Apocalypse’s crunchy, blue‑collar ethos and ensures that each pummeling section does its best to batter you until you’re bloodied and broken.

The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me isn’t a record that invites deep emotional attachment so much as it aims for raw force. When Armed for Apocalypse allows themselves room to experiment, The Earth Is Breathing Beneath Me hints at something more. Those moments underline that Armed for Apocalypse has the talent and discipline to push beyond sheer heaviness. Their yeoman identity, relentless energy, and willingness to get in and get out without excess flash work to their advantage in many respects, and that authenticity can be enough to satisfy. But I can’t help but crave more. Regardless of my desires, The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me never pretends to be more (or less) than what it is and is ultimately content to stop right there.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Church Road Records
Websites: armedforapocalypse.bandcamp.com | armedforapocalypse.com | facebook.com/armedforapocalypse
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

Sludge purveyors Armed for Apocalypse have little interest in fitting neatly into a scene or pandering to an audience. They lack both the time and the inclination. What they do have is relentless drive, a mountain of riffs, and a spirit forged through lived experience and hard-earned endurance. The Portland-by-way-of-Chico quartet has learned its lessons the hard way over 17 years and 3 LPs, cutting their teeth on the road, betting on Kickstarter campaigns to fund tours, and grinding it out night after night. That pathos bleeds through every pore of their music. 2022’s Ritual Violence was a distortion-soaked, relentlessly heavy effort rooted in the likes of Eyehategod, even if its uniformity somewhat blunted its impact. Fourth LP, The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me, is no different, thriving on sheer physicality and a firm commitment to a clearly defined approach that remains Armed for Apocalypse’s bread and butter.

If you’re in the mood for a good ol’ fashioned chug-fest, Armed for Apocalypse is here to deliver. The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me locks into its identity early, delivering big, lumbering grooves that bulldoze the listener with sheer physical force. “Fists Like Feathers” and “Ashes of the Night” announce their arrival immediately with huge down-tuned riffs and distorted drawls dipped in djenty flavors, while “Spellbound,” “Keep Up Appearances” and “Lost Without a Light” pick up the pace with simple but effective Converge-esque hooks and breakdowns that feel designed to move bodies. Drummer Nick Harris absolutely hammers his kit, driving this sludgernaut1 forward with obliterating momentum. Nate Burman’s vocals split the difference between Greg Puciato’s (The Dillinger Escape Plan, Better Lovers) unhinged howls and Phil Anselmo’s tough‑guy roar, never wavering from his acrid delivery or venturing from his tonal range. You won’t find any flash or frills here, just straight, unchecked fury, and these lads execute it with confidence.

While The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me maintains an intense, uncompromising core, its narrow scope limits its upside. Fueled largely by rigid structures and an overreliance on recurring songwriting formulas, Armed for Apocalypse’s consistency can be appealing in short bursts, but over time, the group’s approach causes tracks to blur together. From “Lost Without A Light” through “Lurk,” the record delivers a run of pit-inducing cuts that are lean, direct, and effective, but repeated, tropey breakdowns funnel each track back into the chug factory. It reinforces the sense that The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me could have benefited from bolder, more creative risks. Penultimate song “Bathed in a Tepid Pool of My Own Filth,” functions as a four-minute interlude of resonant, open string drones, offering little relief from the textural wash percolating throughout, particularly after tracks like “Beyond the Mirage” or “Immortal” have already bludgeoned you into submission with similar through-lines.

However, scattered moments of variety across The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me provide evidence that Armed for Apocalypse aren’t purely one-trick. Crestfallen verses and brief melodic passages (“Immortal”) and moments of vulnerability (“Beyond the Mirage,” the title track) suggest more nuanced songwriting, but they surface too sparingly to lift the record from its murky haze. Elsewhere, “Fist Like Feathers” shows the group’s songwriting chops with a strong bout of riffs and hooks that are memorable from the start, while “Lurk” cycles Nails-like assaults before predictably reverting to metalcore breakdowns. Kurt Ballou’s (Converge) production gives everything a massive, polished heft,2 emphasizing Armed for Apocalypse’s crunchy, blue‑collar ethos and ensures that each pummeling section does its best to batter you until you’re bloodied and broken.

The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me isn’t a record that invites deep emotional attachment so much as it aims for raw force. When Armed for Apocalypse allows themselves room to experiment, The Earth Is Breathing Beneath Me hints at something more. Those moments underline that Armed for Apocalypse has the talent and discipline to push beyond sheer heaviness. Their yeoman identity, relentless energy, and willingness to get in and get out without excess flash work to their advantage in many respects, and that authenticity can be enough to satisfy. But I can’t help but crave more. Regardless of my desires, The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me never pretends to be more (or less) than what it is and is ultimately content to stop right there.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Church Road Records
Websites: armedforapocalypse.bandcamp.com | armedforapocalypse.com | facebook.com/armedforapocalypse
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

Sludge purveyors Armed for Apocalypse have little interest in fitting neatly into a scene or pandering to an audience. They lack both the time and the inclination. What they do have is relentless drive, a mountain of riffs, and a spirit forged through lived experience and hard-earned endurance. The Portland-by-way-of-Chico quartet has learned its lessons the hard way over 17 years and 3 LPs, cutting their teeth on the road, betting on Kickstarter campaigns to fund tours, and grinding it out night after night. That pathos bleeds through every pore of their music. 2022’s Ritual Violence was a distortion-soaked, relentlessly heavy effort rooted in the likes of Eyehategod, even if its uniformity somewhat blunted its impact. Fourth LP, The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me, is no different, thriving on sheer physicality and a firm commitment to a clearly defined approach that remains Armed for Apocalypse’s bread and butter.

If you’re in the mood for a good ol’ fashioned chug-fest, Armed for Apocalypse is here to deliver. The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me locks into its identity early, delivering big, lumbering grooves that bulldoze the listener with sheer physical force. “Fists Like Feathers” and “Ashes of the Night” announce their arrival immediately with huge down-tuned riffs and distorted drawls dipped in djenty flavors, while “Spellbound,” “Keep Up Appearances” and “Lost Without a Light” pick up the pace with simple but effective Converge-esque hooks and breakdowns that feel designed to move bodies. Drummer Nick Harris absolutely hammers his kit, driving this sludgernaut1 forward with obliterating momentum. Nate Burman’s vocals split the difference between Greg Puciato’s (The Dillinger Escape Plan, Better Lovers) unhinged howls and Phil Anselmo’s tough‑guy roar, never wavering from his acrid delivery or venturing from his tonal range. You won’t find any flash or frills here, just straight, unchecked fury, and these lads execute it with confidence.

While The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me maintains an intense, uncompromising core, its narrow scope limits its upside. Fueled largely by rigid structures and an overreliance on recurring songwriting formulas, Armed for Apocalypse’s consistency can be appealing in short bursts, but over time, the group’s approach causes tracks to blur together. From “Lost Without A Light” through “Lurk,” the record delivers a run of pit-inducing cuts that are lean, direct, and effective, but repeated, tropey breakdowns funnel each track back into the chug factory. It reinforces the sense that The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me could have benefited from bolder, more creative risks. Penultimate song “Bathed in a Tepid Pool of My Own Filth,” functions as a four-minute interlude of resonant, open string drones, offering little relief from the textural wash percolating throughout, particularly after tracks like “Beyond the Mirage” or “Immortal” have already bludgeoned you into submission with similar through-lines.

However, scattered moments of variety across The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me provide evidence that Armed for Apocalypse aren’t purely one-trick. Crestfallen verses and brief melodic passages (“Immortal”) and moments of vulnerability (“Beyond the Mirage,” the title track) suggest more nuanced songwriting, but they surface too sparingly to lift the record from its murky haze. Elsewhere, “Fist Like Feathers” shows the group’s songwriting chops with a strong bout of riffs and hooks that are memorable from the start, while “Lurk” cycles Nails-like assaults before predictably reverting to metalcore breakdowns. Kurt Ballou’s (Converge) production gives everything a massive, polished heft,2 emphasizing Armed for Apocalypse’s crunchy, blue‑collar ethos and ensures that each pummeling section does its best to batter you until you’re bloodied and broken.

The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me isn’t a record that invites deep emotional attachment so much as it aims for raw force. When Armed for Apocalypse allows themselves room to experiment, The Earth Is Breathing Beneath Me hints at something more. Those moments underline that Armed for Apocalypse has the talent and discipline to push beyond sheer heaviness. Their yeoman identity, relentless energy, and willingness to get in and get out without excess flash work to their advantage in many respects, and that authenticity can be enough to satisfy. But I can’t help but crave more. Regardless of my desires, The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me never pretends to be more (or less) than what it is and is ultimately content to stop right there.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Church Road Records
Websites: armedforapocalypse.bandcamp.com | armedforapocalypse.com | facebook.com/armedforapocalypse
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

Sludge purveyors Armed for Apocalypse have little interest in fitting neatly into a scene or pandering to an audience. They lack both the time and the inclination. What they do have is relentless drive, a mountain of riffs, and a spirit forged through lived experience and hard-earned endurance. The Portland-by-way-of-Chico quartet has learned its lessons the hard way over 17 years and 3 LPs, cutting their teeth on the road, betting on Kickstarter campaigns to fund tours, and grinding it out night after night. That pathos bleeds through every pore of their music. 2022’s Ritual Violence was a distortion-soaked, relentlessly heavy effort rooted in the likes of Eyehategod, even if its uniformity somewhat blunted its impact. Fourth LP, The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me, is no different, thriving on sheer physicality and a firm commitment to a clearly defined approach that remains Armed for Apocalypse’s bread and butter.

If you’re in the mood for a good ol’ fashioned chug-fest, Armed for Apocalypse is here to deliver. The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me locks into its identity early, delivering big, lumbering grooves that bulldoze the listener with sheer physical force. “Fists Like Feathers” and “Ashes of the Night” announce their arrival immediately with huge down-tuned riffs and distorted drawls dipped in djenty flavors, while “Spellbound,” “Keep Up Appearances” and “Lost Without a Light” pick up the pace with simple but effective Converge-esque hooks and breakdowns that feel designed to move bodies. Drummer Nick Harris absolutely hammers his kit, driving this sludgernaut1 forward with obliterating momentum. Nate Burman’s vocals split the difference between Greg Puciato’s (The Dillinger Escape Plan, Better Lovers) unhinged howls and Phil Anselmo’s tough‑guy roar, never wavering from his acrid delivery or venturing from his tonal range. You won’t find any flash or frills here, just straight, unchecked fury, and these lads execute it with confidence.

While The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me maintains an intense, uncompromising core, its narrow scope limits its upside. Fueled largely by rigid structures and an overreliance on recurring songwriting formulas, Armed for Apocalypse’s consistency can be appealing in short bursts, but over time, the group’s approach causes tracks to blur together. From “Lost Without A Light” through “Lurk,” the record delivers a run of pit-inducing cuts that are lean, direct, and effective, but repeated, tropey breakdowns funnel each track back into the chug factory. It reinforces the sense that The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me could have benefited from bolder, more creative risks. Penultimate song “Bathed in a Tepid Pool of My Own Filth,” functions as a four-minute interlude of resonant, open string drones, offering little relief from the textural wash percolating throughout, particularly after tracks like “Beyond the Mirage” or “Immortal” have already bludgeoned you into submission with similar through-lines.

However, scattered moments of variety across The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me provide evidence that Armed for Apocalypse aren’t purely one-trick. Crestfallen verses and brief melodic passages (“Immortal”) and moments of vulnerability (“Beyond the Mirage,” the title track) suggest more nuanced songwriting, but they surface too sparingly to lift the record from its murky haze. Elsewhere, “Fist Like Feathers” shows the group’s songwriting chops with a strong bout of riffs and hooks that are memorable from the start, while “Lurk” cycles Nails-like assaults before predictably reverting to metalcore breakdowns. Kurt Ballou’s (Converge) production gives everything a massive, polished heft,2 emphasizing Armed for Apocalypse’s crunchy, blue‑collar ethos and ensures that each pummeling section does its best to batter you until you’re bloodied and broken.

The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me isn’t a record that invites deep emotional attachment so much as it aims for raw force. When Armed for Apocalypse allows themselves room to experiment, The Earth Is Breathing Beneath Me hints at something more. Those moments underline that Armed for Apocalypse has the talent and discipline to push beyond sheer heaviness. Their yeoman identity, relentless energy, and willingness to get in and get out without excess flash work to their advantage in many respects, and that authenticity can be enough to satisfy. But I can’t help but crave more. Regardless of my desires, The Earth is Breathing Beneath Me never pretends to be more (or less) than what it is and is ultimately content to stop right there.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Church Road Records
Websites: armedforapocalypse.bandcamp.com | armedforapocalypse.com | facebook.com/armedforapocalypse
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

Accessibility in music isn’t something we fuck with here at AMG. It isn’t even really something metal fans in general care about. Many times, even at its most accessible, metal is a genre written off due to how abrasive it is. But what about physical and mental accessibility for fans and musicians? That is the mantra for Mallavora, a band that originally caught my attention in the promo pile with its bold description as an alt-metal group that fuses elements of R&B, Soul, and Middle Eastern trappings. Upon further inspection, they are pushing the frontlines of accessibility, making a point of playing shows in accessible spaces. Lead singer Jessica Douek suffers from fibromyalgia and is disabled herself, and guitarist Larry Sobieraj pulls from his own experience with chronic illness. If you think this slows the band down in any capacity, you would be wrong. Mallavora’s brand of Middle Eastern-infused alt-metal is dynamic, bombastic, and crushing. Their debut record, What If Better Never Comes? looks to answer the question: Is this a band that can back up its positive message with awesome music?

The album art for What If Better Never Comes? depicts a blurred figure staring up at an endless staircase, and I can only imagine how much more terrifying this image is for those with physical disabilities, but as someone who suffers from mental illness, the metaphor of this insurmountable staircase plays out across the album. This is no happy space filled with sappy messaging and generic positive affirmations. “Sick” sees Douek chanting “Sick” to the backing of grooving guitars and Sam Brownlow’s energetic and punchy drumming. The track is a combo of alt and groove metal enhanced by Douek’s incredible vocals. While “Sick” is an easy example of Mallavora’s worldview, the album is peppered with ideas that personify the concept behind the album title and accompanying art. “Hopeless” is a depressing ballad with emo trappings that showcases Doeuk’s absurd vocal range and amazing falsetto. “Break” sees her directly confronting her life in an existence that feels hostile, calling out, “I guess this world just wasn’t made for bodies quite like mine,” before the track leads into “Birth of a Sun,” where she drops the hammer with powerful low gutturals backed by a massive riff that could live on an Orbit Culture album.

What If Better Never Comes? by Mallavora

Mallavora deftly avoids the repetition typical of many metalcore adjacent outfits. Alt-metal is at the forefront, and What If Better Never Comes? Is stuffed with creative left turns and surprising genre switches. “Smile” flips on a dime from all-out fury to a bouncing groove, only to go back to brutal blasts and Douek hitting her lowest growl. The album’s closer, and title track, is a nine-minute epic with massive riffs, an R&B tangent, and gorgeous chanting inspired by Douek’s Jewish and Middle Eastern heritage. Douek’s vocal talent cannot be overstated, and her range and style act as a throughline in the album, helping keep the disparate and chaotic elements cohesive. The clean production still allows for Brownlow’s skin beating to come out clear and brutal, while Ellis James’ bass shines. There is a consistent atmosphere that keeps Mallavora sounding like a veteran band, not one that is only just releasing its debut.

What If Better Never Comes? is a powerhouse debut for a young band, but it isn’t all roses. “Waste” is an unfortunately named track, because it doesn’t really add anything to the album and has some of the weakest lyrics. It also feels the most formulaic of the tracks while never really opening up. The album is also oddly-paced. The variety on display is admirable, but at times it throws the album off course, such as dropping the ballad “Hopeless” too soon, derailing early momentum.

Mallavora has something special with its sound. Douek’s vocals are consistently amazing, and her range is incredible. They use this to the fullest, with an album that goes wherever it wants and is the better for it. The four-piece shines on all fronts. Brownlow’s drumming has a classic rock energy that is infectious, Sobieraj’s riffs are huge, and James’ bass is allowed to shine with unique passages and expansive production. What If Better Never Comes? is as powerful as its message without being trite or treating disability as something to be patronized. It is as complex, flawed, depressed, and hopeful as we all are while remaining an infectiously groovy, anthemic alt-metal album that swings for the fences and mostly hits it.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Church Road Records
Websites: mallavora.co.uk | Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026

Accessibility in music isn’t something we fuck with here at AMG. It isn’t even really something metal fans in general care about. Many times, even at its most accessible, metal is a genre written off due to how abrasive it is. But what about physical and mental accessibility for fans and musicians? That is the mantra for Mallavora, a band that originally caught my attention in the promo pile with its bold description as an alt-metal group that fuses elements of R&B, Soul, and Middle Eastern trappings. Upon further inspection, they are pushing the frontlines of accessibility, making a point of playing shows in accessible spaces. Lead singer Jessica Douek suffers from fibromyalgia and is disabled herself, and guitarist Larry Sobieraj pulls from his own experience with chronic illness. If you think this slows the band down in any capacity, you would be wrong. Mallavora’s brand of Middle Eastern-infused alt-metal is dynamic, bombastic, and crushing. Their debut record, What If Better Never Comes? looks to answer the question: Is this a band that can back up its positive message with awesome music?

The album art for What If Better Never Comes? depicts a blurred figure staring up at an endless staircase, and I can only imagine how much more terrifying this image is for those with physical disabilities, but as someone who suffers from mental illness, the metaphor of this insurmountable staircase plays out across the album. This is no happy space filled with sappy messaging and generic positive affirmations. “Sick” sees Douek chanting “Sick” to the backing of grooving guitars and Sam Brownlow’s energetic and punchy drumming. The track is a combo of alt and groove metal enhanced by Douek’s incredible vocals. While “Sick” is an easy example of Mallavora’s worldview, the album is peppered with ideas that personify the concept behind the album title and accompanying art. “Hopeless” is a depressing ballad with emo trappings that showcases Doeuk’s absurd vocal range and amazing falsetto. “Break” sees her directly confronting her life in an existence that feels hostile, calling out, “I guess this world just wasn’t made for bodies quite like mine,” before the track leads into “Birth of a Sun,” where she drops the hammer with powerful low gutturals backed by a massive riff that could live on an Orbit Culture album.

What If Better Never Comes? by Mallavora

Mallavora deftly avoids the repetition typical of many metalcore adjacent outfits. Alt-metal is at the forefront, and What If Better Never Comes? Is stuffed with creative left turns and surprising genre switches. “Smile” flips on a dime from all-out fury to a bouncing groove, only to go back to brutal blasts and Douek hitting her lowest growl. The album’s closer, and title track, is a nine-minute epic with massive riffs, an R&B tangent, and gorgeous chanting inspired by Douek’s Jewish and Middle Eastern heritage. Douek’s vocal talent cannot be overstated, and her range and style act as a throughline in the album, helping keep the disparate and chaotic elements cohesive. The clean production still allows for Brownlow’s skin beating to come out clear and brutal, while Ellis James’ bass shines. There is a consistent atmosphere that keeps Mallavora sounding like a veteran band, not one that is only just releasing its debut.

What If Better Never Comes? is a powerhouse debut for a young band, but it isn’t all roses. “Waste” is an unfortunately named track, because it doesn’t really add anything to the album and has some of the weakest lyrics. It also feels the most formulaic of the tracks while never really opening up. The album is also oddly-paced. The variety on display is admirable, but at times it throws the album off course, such as dropping the ballad “Hopeless” too soon, derailing early momentum.

Mallavora has something special with its sound. Douek’s vocals are consistently amazing, and her range is incredible. They use this to the fullest, with an album that goes wherever it wants and is the better for it. The four-piece shines on all fronts. Brownlow’s drumming has a classic rock energy that is infectious, Sobieraj’s riffs are huge, and James’ bass is allowed to shine with unique passages and expansive production. What If Better Never Comes? is as powerful as its message without being trite or treating disability as something to be patronized. It is as complex, flawed, depressed, and hopeful as we all are while remaining an infectiously groovy, anthemic alt-metal album that swings for the fences and mostly hits it.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Church Road Records
Websites: mallavora.co.uk | Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026

Accessibility in music isn’t something we fuck with here at AMG. It isn’t even really something metal fans in general care about. Many times, even at its most accessible, metal is a genre written off due to how abrasive it is. But what about physical and mental accessibility for fans and musicians? That is the mantra for Mallavora, a band that originally caught my attention in the promo pile with its bold description as an alt-metal group that fuses elements of R&B, Soul, and Middle Eastern trappings. Upon further inspection, they are pushing the frontlines of accessibility, making a point of playing shows in accessible spaces. Lead singer Jessica Douek suffers from fibromyalgia and is disabled herself, and guitarist Larry Sobieraj pulls from his own experience with chronic illness. If you think this slows the band down in any capacity, you would be wrong. Mallavora’s brand of Middle Eastern-infused alt-metal is dynamic, bombastic, and crushing. Their debut record, What If Better Never Comes? looks to answer the question: Is this a band that can back up its positive message with awesome music?

The album art for What If Better Never Comes? depicts a blurred figure staring up at an endless staircase, and I can only imagine how much more terrifying this image is for those with physical disabilities, but as someone who suffers from mental illness, the metaphor of this insurmountable staircase plays out across the album. This is no happy space filled with sappy messaging and generic positive affirmations. “Sick” sees Douek chanting “Sick” to the backing of grooving guitars and Sam Brownlow’s energetic and punchy drumming. The track is a combo of alt and groove metal enhanced by Douek’s incredible vocals. While “Sick” is an easy example of Mallavora’s worldview, the album is peppered with ideas that personify the concept behind the album title and accompanying art. “Hopeless” is a depressing ballad with emo trappings that showcases Doeuk’s absurd vocal range and amazing falsetto. “Break” sees her directly confronting her life in an existence that feels hostile, calling out, “I guess this world just wasn’t made for bodies quite like mine,” before the track leads into “Birth of a Sun,” where she drops the hammer with powerful low gutturals backed by a massive riff that could live on an Orbit Culture album.

What If Better Never Comes? by Mallavora

Mallavora deftly avoids the repetition typical of many metalcore adjacent outfits. Alt-metal is at the forefront, and What If Better Never Comes? Is stuffed with creative left turns and surprising genre switches. “Smile” flips on a dime from all-out fury to a bouncing groove, only to go back to brutal blasts and Douek hitting her lowest growl. The album’s closer, and title track, is a nine-minute epic with massive riffs, an R&B tangent, and gorgeous chanting inspired by Douek’s Jewish and Middle Eastern heritage. Douek’s vocal talent cannot be overstated, and her range and style act as a throughline in the album, helping keep the disparate and chaotic elements cohesive. The clean production still allows for Brownlow’s skin beating to come out clear and brutal, while Ellis James’ bass shines. There is a consistent atmosphere that keeps Mallavora sounding like a veteran band, not one that is only just releasing its debut.

What If Better Never Comes? is a powerhouse debut for a young band, but it isn’t all roses. “Waste” is an unfortunately named track, because it doesn’t really add anything to the album and has some of the weakest lyrics. It also feels the most formulaic of the tracks while never really opening up. The album is also oddly-paced. The variety on display is admirable, but at times it throws the album off course, such as dropping the ballad “Hopeless” too soon, derailing early momentum.

Mallavora has something special with its sound. Douek’s vocals are consistently amazing, and her range is incredible. They use this to the fullest, with an album that goes wherever it wants and is the better for it. The four-piece shines on all fronts. Brownlow’s drumming has a classic rock energy that is infectious, Sobieraj’s riffs are huge, and James’ bass is allowed to shine with unique passages and expansive production. What If Better Never Comes? is as powerful as its message without being trite or treating disability as something to be patronized. It is as complex, flawed, depressed, and hopeful as we all are while remaining an infectiously groovy, anthemic alt-metal album that swings for the fences and mostly hits it.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Church Road Records
Websites: mallavora.co.uk | Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026

Accessibility in music isn’t something we fuck with here at AMG. It isn’t even really something metal fans in general care about. Many times, even at its most accessible, metal is a genre written off due to how abrasive it is. But what about physical and mental accessibility for fans and musicians? That is the mantra for Mallavora, a band that originally caught my attention in the promo pile with its bold description as an alt-metal group that fuses elements of R&B, Soul, and Middle Eastern trappings. Upon further inspection, they are pushing the frontlines of accessibility, making a point of playing shows in accessible spaces. Lead singer Jessica Douek suffers from fibromyalgia and is disabled herself, and guitarist Larry Sobieraj pulls from his own experience with chronic illness. If you think this slows the band down in any capacity, you would be wrong. Mallavora’s brand of Middle Eastern-infused alt-metal is dynamic, bombastic, and crushing. Their debut record, What If Better Never Comes? looks to answer the question: Is this a band that can back up its positive message with awesome music?

The album art for What If Better Never Comes? depicts a blurred figure staring up at an endless staircase, and I can only imagine how much more terrifying this image is for those with physical disabilities, but as someone who suffers from mental illness, the metaphor of this insurmountable staircase plays out across the album. This is no happy space filled with sappy messaging and generic positive affirmations. “Sick” sees Douek chanting “Sick” to the backing of grooving guitars and Sam Brownlow’s energetic and punchy drumming. The track is a combo of alt and groove metal enhanced by Douek’s incredible vocals. While “Sick” is an easy example of Mallavora’s worldview, the album is peppered with ideas that personify the concept behind the album title and accompanying art. “Hopeless” is a depressing ballad with emo trappings that showcases Doeuk’s absurd vocal range and amazing falsetto. “Break” sees her directly confronting her life in an existence that feels hostile, calling out, “I guess this world just wasn’t made for bodies quite like mine,” before the track leads into “Birth of a Sun,” where she drops the hammer with powerful low gutturals backed by a massive riff that could live on an Orbit Culture album.

What If Better Never Comes? by Mallavora

Mallavora deftly avoids the repetition typical of many metalcore adjacent outfits. Alt-metal is at the forefront, and What If Better Never Comes? Is stuffed with creative left turns and surprising genre switches. “Smile” flips on a dime from all-out fury to a bouncing groove, only to go back to brutal blasts and Douek hitting her lowest growl. The album’s closer, and title track, is a nine-minute epic with massive riffs, an R&B tangent, and gorgeous chanting inspired by Douek’s Jewish and Middle Eastern heritage. Douek’s vocal talent cannot be overstated, and her range and style act as a throughline in the album, helping keep the disparate and chaotic elements cohesive. The clean production still allows for Brownlow’s skin beating to come out clear and brutal, while Ellis James’ bass shines. There is a consistent atmosphere that keeps Mallavora sounding like a veteran band, not one that is only just releasing its debut.

What If Better Never Comes? is a powerhouse debut for a young band, but it isn’t all roses. “Waste” is an unfortunately named track, because it doesn’t really add anything to the album and has some of the weakest lyrics. It also feels the most formulaic of the tracks while never really opening up. The album is also oddly-paced. The variety on display is admirable, but at times it throws the album off course, such as dropping the ballad “Hopeless” too soon, derailing early momentum.

Mallavora has something special with its sound. Douek’s vocals are consistently amazing, and her range is incredible. They use this to the fullest, with an album that goes wherever it wants and is the better for it. The four-piece shines on all fronts. Brownlow’s drumming has a classic rock energy that is infectious, Sobieraj’s riffs are huge, and James’ bass is allowed to shine with unique passages and expansive production. What If Better Never Comes? is as powerful as its message without being trite or treating disability as something to be patronized. It is as complex, flawed, depressed, and hopeful as we all are while remaining an infectiously groovy, anthemic alt-metal album that swings for the fences and mostly hits it.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Church Road Records
Websites: mallavora.co.uk | Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026

Accessibility in music isn’t something we fuck with here at AMG. It isn’t even really something metal fans in general care about. Many times, even at its most accessible, metal is a genre written off due to how abrasive it is. But what about physical and mental accessibility for fans and musicians? That is the mantra for Mallavora, a band that originally caught my attention in the promo pile with its bold description as an alt-metal group that fuses elements of R&B, Soul, and Middle Eastern trappings. Upon further inspection, they are pushing the frontlines of accessibility, making a point of playing shows in accessible spaces. Lead singer Jessica Douek suffers from fibromyalgia and is disabled herself, and guitarist Larry Sobieraj pulls from his own experience with chronic illness. If you think this slows the band down in any capacity, you would be wrong. Mallavora’s brand of Middle Eastern-infused alt-metal is dynamic, bombastic, and crushing. Their debut record, What If Better Never Comes? looks to answer the question: Is this a band that can back up its positive message with awesome music?

The album art for What If Better Never Comes? depicts a blurred figure staring up at an endless staircase, and I can only imagine how much more terrifying this image is for those with physical disabilities, but as someone who suffers from mental illness, the metaphor of this insurmountable staircase plays out across the album. This is no happy space filled with sappy messaging and generic positive affirmations. “Sick” sees Douek chanting “Sick” to the backing of grooving guitars and Sam Brownlow’s energetic and punchy drumming. The track is a combo of alt and groove metal enhanced by Douek’s incredible vocals. While “Sick” is an easy example of Mallavora’s worldview, the album is peppered with ideas that personify the concept behind the album title and accompanying art. “Hopeless” is a depressing ballad with emo trappings that showcases Doeuk’s absurd vocal range and amazing falsetto. “Break” sees her directly confronting her life in an existence that feels hostile, calling out, “I guess this world just wasn’t made for bodies quite like mine,” before the track leads into “Birth of a Sun,” where she drops the hammer with powerful low gutturals backed by a massive riff that could live on an Orbit Culture album.

What If Better Never Comes? by Mallavora

Mallavora deftly avoids the repetition typical of many metalcore adjacent outfits. Alt-metal is at the forefront, and What If Better Never Comes? Is stuffed with creative left turns and surprising genre switches. “Smile” flips on a dime from all-out fury to a bouncing groove, only to go back to brutal blasts and Douek hitting her lowest growl. The album’s closer, and title track, is a nine-minute epic with massive riffs, an R&B tangent, and gorgeous chanting inspired by Douek’s Jewish and Middle Eastern heritage. Douek’s vocal talent cannot be overstated, and her range and style act as a throughline in the album, helping keep the disparate and chaotic elements cohesive. The clean production still allows for Brownlow’s skin beating to come out clear and brutal, while Ellis James’ bass shines. There is a consistent atmosphere that keeps Mallavora sounding like a veteran band, not one that is only just releasing its debut.

What If Better Never Comes? is a powerhouse debut for a young band, but it isn’t all roses. “Waste” is an unfortunately named track, because it doesn’t really add anything to the album and has some of the weakest lyrics. It also feels the most formulaic of the tracks while never really opening up. The album is also oddly-paced. The variety on display is admirable, but at times it throws the album off course, such as dropping the ballad “Hopeless” too soon, derailing early momentum.

Mallavora has something special with its sound. Douek’s vocals are consistently amazing, and her range is incredible. They use this to the fullest, with an album that goes wherever it wants and is the better for it. The four-piece shines on all fronts. Brownlow’s drumming has a classic rock energy that is infectious, Sobieraj’s riffs are huge, and James’ bass is allowed to shine with unique passages and expansive production. What If Better Never Comes? is as powerful as its message without being trite or treating disability as something to be patronized. It is as complex, flawed, depressed, and hopeful as we all are while remaining an infectiously groovy, anthemic alt-metal album that swings for the fences and mostly hits it.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Church Road Records
Websites: mallavora.co.uk | Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026

Nieuws: Om in de gaten te houden: Mallavora
https://writteninmusic.com/nieuws/om-in-de-gaten-te-houden-mallavora/

#Music #Metal #Mallavora #ChurchRoadRecords