#electronicmetal — Public Fediverse posts

Rain has started to leak into the ducts as Spring gets wetter and wetter. While I’m away, vacationing in a nice, dry, cloudy place, my minions are drenched and miserable. As it should be! But I’m still keeping tabs on their progress. Just because I’m having a great time somewhere else doesn’t mean these louts don’t have a quota to meet!

And meet their quota they shall, if only barely… BEHOLD!

ClarkKent’s Sci-Fi Soundbites

Epigram // Obsolescent [March 6th, 2026 – Self Released]

Combining the melodic black metal of Thulcandra and Dissection with the symphonics of Fleshgod Apocalypse and SepticFlesh, Epigram dropped a tasty little morsel with their debut, Obsolescent. The trio from Los Angeles puts on a spirited performance that borders on thrash. Tim Cauley’s display on the kit is a dominant force as he furiously blast beats his way from one song to the next. He turns “Wrath of Betrayed” into a piece of blackened thrash and proves tireless across Obsolescent’s 27-minute runtime. The lively vocal performance of Luis Echevarria adds further to Epigram’s charm. His low growls may seem underpowered, but his delivery is energetic and fun. He’s also the source of the symphonic instrumentation, via synths, though this aspect is secondary. Sure, there’s some choral chants (“Myrmidon,” “The Usurper’s Throne”), strings (“Hour of Gods”), and other vaguely symphonic sounds, but Epigram is most focused on the blackened melodic stuff. Shadi Absi throws together some great riffs, particularly on “Empires,” a work of pure black ‘n roll. The showstopper is “Hour of Gods,” with some sweet riffs and terrific energy. This song alone makes Obsolescent a worthy spin. Rounding out the musicians is Sanjay Kumar (Inferi, Wormhole), who plays solos on “Wrath of Betrayed” and “No Sin.” This is a promising debut for an eager new band.

Kal-El // Astral Voyager Vol. 2 [March 20th, 2026 – Blues Funeral Recordings]

Sporting the greatest band name of all time, Kal-El have been blasting listeners with stoner doom since 2012. Astral Voyager Vol. 2 is the follow-up to last year’s Vol. 1, and these pyschedelians’s seventh album overall. It’s been seven years since Witches of Mars was unfairly pummeled by a Kryptonian frog, and now I’d like to do the band justice by rescuing them from our filter. On this astral voyage, you get the pleasure of listening to six songs and 42 minutes of laid-back stoner tunes with plenty of fuzzy riffs—perfect for cruising around the cosmos. Their riff-centric approach puts them in the Black Sabbath camp, and the riffs on the likes of “Juno” and “The Prophecy,” which has a “Children of the Grave” vibe, are tons of fun. Further cementing the Sabbath comp is the vocal performance of Ståle Rodvelt, who carries a resemblance to Ozzy in his delivery. Longer cuts take more exploratory routes, akin to Sleep, yet still feature plenty to get your head bobbin’. “Asteroid” opens up with some sweet riffs that sustain its near eight-minute frame, while “The Nine” will still have you singing along in the final of its ten minutes. 1 So if you are in the mood for something chill that won’t put you to sleep, something that has the riffs without the risk of elevating your blood pressure, you should spend some time with Kal-El.

Thus Spoke’s Tectonic Treat

Bong-Ra // Esoterik [March 20th, 2026 – Debemur Morti Productions]

Not having received promo, it was only upon visiting DM’s Bandcamp page while writing up Aversio Humanitatis that I realised Bong-Ra had released another album. Asked whether Esoterik would be leaning more into enigmatic doom or spiky industrial electronica, the shapeshifting Bong-Ra said “yes”. The music is built on layers of dense, gritty atmosphere undulating with bass, breakbeats, and distorted riffs. Vocals are maintained from Black Noise—half-spoken snarls blurred by noise, shifting between blunt tunefulness (“Serpentine Helix”) and gargling venom (“Machine Halo”)—but at least half of the space is devoted to the purely instrumental psychosis. The saxophone is back, adding bizarre elegance and chilling eeriness in equal measure. Sometimes, Esoterik seems to be pitting its sultry and acerbic natures against one another; that chamber jazz side can take one by surprise (“Pleasures of the Flesh,” “Duality of One”), sandwiched as it is between a more punishing industrialism, but Bong-Ra just about gets away with it. This could be down to Esoterik’s efficiency in establishing (new) grooves—rhythmic and stylistic. Opener “Harmony Cloak” dispels misgivings on its skittering electronic oddity with a chorus that strikes a stylish balance between melody and dissonance; “Machine Halo” later follows in its stride. It’s an album that earns its moniker, right down to the particular spelling, and is worth the dark diversion it requires.

Grin Reaper’s Kooky Curios

Surturian // II – Hessian Spears [March 13th, 2026 – Crawling Chaos]

A German thrash band named after the legendary fire giant and guardian of Muspelheim? And on their debut LP, they launch an unrelenting, venomous assault filled with sticky riffs and bopping bass grooves in under forty-five minutes? Sign me up! Surturian plays thrash that smacks of early Testament and Metallica fused with the epic melodies of latter-day Kreator—hell, vocalist Tim Krogull reeks of Mille’s rancorous vocals, even though his name hews closer to a Voivodian disposition. In addition to thrash influences, Surturian calls upon Maiden’s signature gallops (“Cimmerians Wrath”) and anthemic melodies (“⁠Night Stalker,” “Do What Thou Wilt”), inculcating a lofty grandeur throughout II – Hessian Spears. Further fanning Surturian’s flames, the outfit navigates a varied landscape that imbues each track with its own character while never straying too far from their core sound. Hard-hitting offensives (“Blood Witchery”), slinky licks (“Night Stalker”), and oddball songwriting (“Beneath a Dying Sky”2) unite into an album I’ve regularly returned to since discovering it. If you’re feeling unSurtain, take it from me—it’s always a good time for some Hessian aggression!

Barn // Crucibles [March 24th, 2026 – Self Released]

Thanks to a certain dude/guy in the comments section, Crucibles didn’t slip past me undetected. Despite their dubious band name, Barn dropped a humdinger slab of tech death back in March that oozes with references to Unquestionable Presence (Atheist), Focus (Cynic), and, to a lesser extent, Decrepit Birth.3 There are even moments that echo more subdued moments from recent Sallow Moth releases (“The Serpent’s Perpetual Shed”). Staccato bursts of guitar, pinch harmonics, and buttery, fretless bass glissandos epitomize what Barn offers, and they spread it thick and chunky all over Crucibles’ sixty-five-minute runtime. Rustic name notwithstanding, Barn’s latest sounds like a sci-fi adventure, supported by track names like “Black Hole Lens” and “Cymatics.” The fretless bass especially helps with the futuristic aesthetic, frictionlessly gliding through gusts of abrupt, otherworldly guitars that buffet tracks from all angles. Barn rarely offers reprieve during their unconventional onslaught, but tracks like “Forbidden Fruits,” “Cymatics,” and “The Defeater” achieve such heights that I don’t find myself needing one. In short, these Boise boys warp listeners to a different dimension on Crucibles, and though it runs a tad long, I haven’t been deterred yet from lighting up this Barnburner.

Dionysiaque // La Tourbe des Rêves [March 27th, 2026 – I, Voidhanger Records]

Dionysiaque dispenses a bizarre derivative of doom on La Tourbe des Rêves that’s sure to be equal parts captivating and divisive. Reaching into the bag of tricks defined by Cathedral, Black Sabbath, and Candlemass, Dionysiaque’s sophomore album lumbers and chugs with classic rock-inspired leads and firecracker songcraft that I find utterly enthralling. Songs like “Aaron,” “Hate Fruit,” and “The Two Headed Boy” spotlight Dionysiaque’s plaintive guitar wails, contributed by L.B. and Bruno Penserini, along with their savvy balance of somber atmospheres and rousing melodies. Buoying the guitar tandem, bassist Lethal lays down frolicking, fabulous thunder via absorbing countermelodies while drummer T.H. looses potent fills and rolls throughout. Soaring atop the instrumentation are N.C.’s unorthodox vocals, which will almost certainly be the sole determining factor in listeners’ ability to engage with La Tourbe des Rêves. His delivery recalls that of Mayhem’s Attila Csihar at his most operatically deranged, never lacking conviction yet occasionally overpowering and ostentatious. Still, I appreciate and enjoy the commitment to the unhinged performance, and although dialing it back a little would make Dionysiaque’s latest more accessible, I’ve come to love La Tourbe des Rêves without apology. So don’t be afraid to let a little love into your heart—go get debauched with Dionysiaque’s aphrodisiac.

Creeping Ivy’s Pandemonic Pleasure

Mammon’s Throne // My Body to the Worms [March 13th, 2026 – Hammerheart Records]

In advising his fellow fallen angels—recently expelled from Heaven—to turn Hell into a competing kingdom, Mammon projects that All Demons will ‘work ease out of pain / Through labor and endurance.’4 Satan doesn’t heed this advice, but the third LP from Mammon’s Throne arguably does. On My Body to the Worms, this Australian five-piece inflicts pleasurable pain upon metaldom via five filthy slabs of sludgy death-doom (plus two instrumental reprieves). Mammon’s Throne conjure Hooded Menace, Temple of Void, and (old) Worm in their proclivity for plodding tempos, swampy riffs, and gravely howls (“Elixir”). The album is also a labor of love for classic (death-) doom à la Paradise Lost and My Dying Bride, mixing gothy croons, ascendant melodicism, and haunting piano into the band’s sinister stew (“Every Day More Sickened,” “At the Threshold of Eternity”). Though the listener does need some endurance, as three of the five non-instrumentals hover in the 8–9 minute range, the record flows fluidly across an easy 42 minutes. If you ever wondered what metal in league with Mammon might sound like, give My Body to the Worms a spin.

You may not recognize her name if you don’t follow her solo work, but Leila Abdul-Rauf is an experienced metal musician. As vocalist and guitarist in death metal group Vastum, and semi-frequent collaborator with other extreme and unconventional artists like Dream Unending, she is something of a veteran on 20 Buck Spin. Yet it is only now, with Andros Insidium, that her eponymous solo project sees a release on this label, and the change is more than symbolic. Whilst staying within the realms of experimental dark ambience—and retaining her signature trumpet—the music has taken a decisively heavier turn as Leila dials up the oppressive drone, shapes instrumental elements into dissonant, strange patterns, and incorporates vicious, harsh vocals. And if the cover isn’t clue enough,1 she seems to have something to say.

Andros Insidium is a ritual of sorts, but an allegorical one. Leila uses the goddess Ishtar2, specifically her fabled descent into and ascent out of the underworld, as a vessel to explore womanhood in general. Mythology and ceremony act as a framework to “exorcise” demons of patriarchy and the feminine rage that riles against them. Anger reaches an apex in harrowing “Andros Insidium” where Leila condemns “you” (man) in a chorus of haunting half-sung chants, whispers, and snarls for continually assaulting and torturing “her” (woman). Though superficially dissimilar, it vividly recalls a Caligula-era Lingua Ignota with its minimalist piano and cold narration that becomes screams. This is the first appearance of these gargling, screamed vocals on the record, and one of only two songs that include them, the other being closer “Return to Anu.” The time leading up to this release is filled with tension, the ambience smothering the soundscape without reprieve, as eerie plucks and unsettling cleans undulate through it to the beat of portentous drums and tambourine—a bit like an alternate-universe Swans, though sometimes randomly reminiscent of Haunted Plasma (“Stripped Before the Eye of Death,” “Return to Anu”).

Andros Insidium by Leila Abdul-Rauf

Andros Insiduim is out to make its listener uncomfortable, and it unequivocally succeeds. Just about every element from the ritualistic drum patterns, strange melodies from synth, trumpet, and string, and omnipresent thousand-ton drone sets you on edge. The clanging of steel drums that open the album, and return only in the final track, immediately puts the listener on edge. But it’s Leila’s variously dramatic, baleful, and cold—often multitracked—vocals (“Stripped Before the Eye of Death,” “Fractured Body”)3—and the lyrics they deliver—that pulls these feelings of unease into full potency. As a powerless witness (“Stripped…,” “A Requiem…”), a prophetess (“Fractured Body,” “Return to Anu”), or a divine judge (“Andros Insidium”), her accented intonations give her the air of a haunted narrator; and the very dissonance of the vocal lines seems to emphasise their unflinchingly dark lyrical content more than more traditionally mournful melodies could. The sparse use of harsh vocals enhances their viciousness, and their final appearance occurs in a passage that mimics their first—with the same piano tritones and drumbeat—reinforcing their importance both emotionally and musically. In all, it can be a viscerally disturbing experience.

Yet Andros Insidium also has some groovy and even beautiful moments. “Eros Anima” centres a bizarrely catchy rhythm with its menagerie of hand percussion, trumpet, and guitar, while “A Requiem for Ishtar” sees weeping strings accompany angelic sopranos in a genuinely sad lament, and opener “Descent into Kur” consists of mostly harmonious, if ominous, synth melodies. In the context of the whole, however, such occasions are barely less unsettling than the dissonance and only throw those harsher, uglier moments into sharper relief. You could argue they make the music harder to listen to than if they were entirely absent, and the whole thing were obscure and confrontational. Nothing here feels truly random or needless, particularly when one treats it like the story it is and listens actively. But without devoting your full attention, some of the more esoteric aspects tend to jump out at you awkwardly—the announcing trumpets and didgeridoo-like male drones in “Senex Rule,” or the skin-crawling unfolding of “Andros Insidium,” for example.

As with much avant-garde music, your ability to go on the journey of Andros Insidium will depend on your tolerance for weirdness and willingness to feel uncomfortable. In executing her ritual of catharsis, Leila Abdul-Rauf indulges no sentiment but her own—par for the course with extreme metal perhaps, but in this medium, the risk of alienation could be higher. Nevertheless, this is a striking work that deserves at least an open-minded explore.

Rating: Good
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: 20 Buck Spin
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 17th, 2026

Erdling – Mana Review

By Samguineous Maximus

If you’re like me, then your experience with German industrial metal largely revolves around Rammstein, the fun, if not inconsistent, institution that still somehow sells out arenas worldwide with their patented brand of simple riffs, simpler grooves, and deep-voiced German monotone “singing.” If you’re also like me, then listening to Rammstein became a lot less appealing when allegations surrounding frontman Til Lindemann arose, tainting my ability to enjoy the band. Thankfully, Germany is nothing if not efficient, and for every aging industrial Goliath there’s a newer, sleeker unit revving up on the assembly line. Erdling is one such machine, and they’ve been honing their brand of Neue Deutsche Härte since 2014. 1 My simian overlord, Steel Druhm, found their 4th record, 2020’s Yggdrasil, to be competent enough, if not a tad underwhelming. Since then, the Krauts have kept busy, releasing 2 albums in quick succession and garnering a respectable (and I presume mostly German) following. Now, they’re back with Mana, a lean collection of 11 tracks readymade to soundtrack a Berlin nightclub. Has Erdling crafted a delectable enough display of dance-inducing industrial to fill the void?

Mana is what happens when Rammstein and Crematory’s industrial template slams into the glossy, market-tested sheen of Amaranthe. No, Erdling doesn’t have over-processed female vocals or cringe-inducing rap parts (thank Wotan); instead, they take the clear craftsmanship and studio-minded sheen of a more commercial-oriented Euro sound and apply them to a beefy industrial metal core. The result is a batch of sleek, pop tunes that feel precision-engineered to get your fist pumping and stick in your head for days afterwards. The essential ingredients—straightforward Nü-tinged riffing, simple but danceable grooves, and monotone but charismatic German spoken vocals are all here—but they’re arranged in razor-tight formation and often spruced up with garish synth leads or autotuned choirs. Nearly every track on Mana sits around the 3-minute mark, featuring absolutely zero fluff or overlong vibe-killing sections. We have the tried-and-true methodology of ABABCB 2 applied throughout with just enough variety to keep things interesting. For most albums, this slavish devotion to formula would turn me away, but luckily for Erdling, they’re incredibly proficient in their execution.

A full listen of Mana delivers industrial metal banger after banger in rapid succession. The single “Dominus Omnium” showcases Erdling’s command of the style, skillfully building from eerie, restrained verses that highlight vocalist Neill Freiwald’s sinister delivery, into massive, synth-drenched choruses backed by layered guitars. Throughout the album, Erdling nods to various major European metal acts, adding variety and keeping the tracklist feeling fresh. “Los Los Los,” for example, is driven by an Amon Amarth-style melodeath riff but leans more into dance territory, complete with a flashy EDM lead that shines throughout and, of course, an earworm of a chorus. “Miasma” draws from the folk metal playbook, centering its chorus around a natural minor progression you’ve probably heard in dozens of Alestorm tracks. Another element that sets Erdling apart from many of their industrial peers is their lead guitarist. Ole Anders delivers several impressive solos and tasteful lead melodies across the album, adding a dynamic edge to even the more traditional cuts. Tracks like opener “Aurora” are pulled out of complacency by fiery, harmonized guitar work that keeps things from feeling too safe.

Now, it’s not all glühwein and glowsticks. Mana is a formulaic record by design and by limitation. Erdling commit to their template with near-militant discipline. There are no breathers, no tempo shifts, no moody detours. If you’re hoping for a left-field ballad or something vaguely introspective, keep walking. That said, the B-side introduces some welcome variations, like the blast beats and blackened vocals on “Alles dreht sich,” or the somber clean guitar textures on the closer “Sternenschimmer.” The album doesn’t evolve so much as it sprints headfirst into your chest for 37 minutes straight. But that also makes it endlessly re-listenable. Where most industrial albums sag under the weight of their own cyberpunk cosplay, Mana just keeps throwing punches. It’s the kind of record that’s over before you notice, only for your body to demand you hit play again like some kind of blood sugar-crashing dancefloor junkie.

At the end of the day, Erdling aren’t here to challenge the genre’s boundaries; they’re here to perfect it. Mana is a polished, addictive blast of industrial metal that would feel equally at home in a sweaty Berlin club or as fuel for your next deadlift PR. The songwriting is tight, the hooks hit hard, and the band understands exactly what kind of experience they’re delivering: 100% efficiency, zero filler. Is it deep? No. Is it innovative? Not really. Is it a blast and addictively replayable? Absolutely. Until Rammstein either implode or redeem themselves, Erdling just might be the Neue Deutsche Härte fix we need.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Out of Line Records
Websites: erdling.rocks |erdling.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: October 17th, 2025

#2025 #35 #Alestorm #Amaranthe #AmonAmarth #Crematory #ElectronicMetal #Erdling #GermanMetal #Industrial #IndustrialMetal #Mana #NeuDeutscheHärte #Oct25 #OutOfLineMusic #PopMetal #Rammstein #Review #Reviews

Igorrr – Amen Review

By Dear Hollow

Igorrr’s fifth full-length Amen symbolizes a logical and natural progression – a refinement of what was hinted at in 2020’s already excellent Spirituality and Distortion. While retaining everything that makes the project absolutely batshit crazy, the addition of a full cast of musicians in 2017 has borne fruit in striking balance. Sonic architect Gautier Serre draws from the longstanding undercurrent of baroque and both twists it and lets it breathe, resulting in something liturgical, haunting, and organic. What Amen proves is that Igorrr remains one of the most unique and creative minds in both metal and electronic, while also refusing stagnation in continuous development and betterment.

Initially sole member Serre has been at this for twenty years, and the evolution of the sound from his early work with Whourkr and demos to now shows this range. The breakcore freakouts of Igorrr’s early albums Nostril and Hallelujah were pure sugar for the brain, the bizarre sounds and novelty the emphasis in their fusion of chaotic breakcore, trip-hop, baroque, death metal, and black metal. In this evolution, Amen feels like a meat-and-potatoes record, a gradual growth since the full band experience of 2017’s Savage Sinusoid that incorporates grandiosity, gravity, and insanity in ways only Igorrr can. The act recorded Amen with a full choir, spotlighting more well-rounded performances warped by otherworldly synths and abstract effects – reverberating with riffs at its core. It’s a reaffirmation of Serre’s genius/insanity and both a heaven of godly power and one hell of a good time.

For all its seriousness, Amen wouldn’t be an Igorrr record without some moments of absolute nonsense – and they’re dead center in the tracklist. While the instruments are immensely layered and it takes some serious ears and repeated listens to deconstruct the noise, some whacky moments swing in like a monkey in a pope hat to steal your banana split and rub its junk in your face. From the blackened blastbeats, classical choirs, and random piano plonks (“Headbutt”)1 fist fights of death metal, surf rock, and oriental music (“Blastbeat Falafel”), straight-up short-form grind (“2020”), some off-key recorders atop death metal takedowns and breakcore glitching (“Mustard Mucous”), and random electronic farts morphing into wonky rhythms, classical overlays, and full-body assaults (“ADHD”), Igorrr as a full-band unit is committed to the insanity. Vocalists J.B. Le Bail (formerly of Svart Crown) and Marthe Alexandre offer death/black metal range and operatic/mournful drama respectively, while guitarist Martyn Clément (also of HAH) and drummer Remi Serafino (formerly of Ecr.Linf) add a vicious metallic bite that expertly balances silliness, groove, and even reverence. The revolving door of contributors, veterans from Soulfly, Anthrax, and Mr. Bungle, are equally bought into the schtick, making Amen feel surprisingly cohesive.

While hinted at in Spirituality and Distortion and Hallelujah, the liturgical and religious elements of Amen add a darker and more serious tone to and alongside Igorrr’s trademark. These tracks are enhanced by robust and haunting choral arrangements, strings, Arabic microtonal scales, and sharp complex percussion, although central motifs help immensely in establishing what to expect. Riffy death metal beatdowns warped by electronic effects (“Daemoni,” “Mustard Mucous”), haunting lilting vocals atop plodding beats (“Limbo,” “Ancient Sun”), and unhinged vocal attacks (“Infestis,” “Pure Disproportionate Black and White Nihilism”) add darkness and liturgy to the band’s sound. Ascending to the heavens with epic choirs and hinting at mystery with its more enigmatic melodic templates, one certainly unique approach that Igorrr employs is letting the baroque and classical elements breathe rather than Serre being quick to warp them or distort them with effects (highlight “Silence”). This makes the album feel much more organic and significant – nearly a meditation.

Amen is Igorrr firing on all cylinders in its full-band capacity. Death metal vocals, operatic laments, choirs, strings, metallic riffs, and manic drumming fed through the machine of Serre’s electronics has never felt so cohesive in its interpretation of religious and baroque viciousness. Yes, the silliest songs are smack-dab in the middle of the album in quick succession (aside from “Headbutt”), which can feel like a distraction from the more serious bookends, and Igorrr’s music can be alienating at its core. However, Amen is a reaffirmation of the project’s batshit and fun-loving genius as well as a new step forward: haunting, brutal, and otherworldly in a way that we can take seriously.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: igorrr.bandcamp.com | igorrr.com | facebook.com/IgorrrBarrroque
Releases Worldwide: September 19th, 2025

#2025 #40 #Amen #Anthrax #AvantGarde #BlackMetal #Breakcore #DeathMetal #EcrLinf #Electronic #ElectronicMetal #FrenchMetal #HAH #Igorrr #MetalBladeRecords #MrBungle #Review #Reviews #Sep25 #Soulfly #SvartCrown #TripHop #Whourkr

Nuclear Dudes – Truth Paste Review

By Thus Spoke

Nuclear Dudes is one step closer to living up to their moniker as they are now officially more than one person.1 Joined by Brandon Nakamura (Doomsday 1999, ex-Teen Cthulu) on vocals, Sandrider’s Jon Weisnewski bounces back from the synthwave moment of Compression Crimes 1 to resume the usual trajectory of insanity. 2023’s Boss Blades—my personal introduction to this madness—was a disarmingly likeable collection of silly and serious sounds heavy and light. It was also surprisingly good. Though I’d partly forgotten this due to its brevity and my sieve-like brain, the band has such character, in name, in vibe, and artwork theme—that a commenter very sensibly pointed out is likely courtesy of Weisnewski’s small child and not his brother as I hilariously assumed—that I was instantly back in the room with Nuclear Dudes, ready for the next trip.

With a permanent2 vocalist alongside Weisnewski’s own contributions, Truth Paste is closer to powerviolence or grind than previous outings. But a vague resemblance to these genres is as close as it gets. The record is a breezy 23 minutes across 11 tracks (check one: very short runtimes), and there are more passages of outright beatdown, screaming, chaotic metallic insanity (check 2: silly heavy and intense). But it’s what’s going on within that runtime, and both during and between those especially heavy moments that matters. Nuclear Dudes don’t waste a second. Opening on a bizarre tribute to Guns ‘n Roses’ “Welcome to the Jungle”—which includes using that song’s literal intro as their own—the duo switch in a flash to an electro-grind(core), erratically accented by an array of eclectic sound effects, which is a recurrent style on the album. Approximately four and a half minutes in, it becomes clear that the preceding two tracks (“Napalm Life,” “Holiday Warfare”) functioned as a violent induction to themes that are to follow, as the title track ramps up to a pure hardcore breakdown to a woman crying “ohhhh myy gawwd it’s—”, and the ensuing chuggery forms the first ‘breather’ for the listener. That concludes the most normal segment on the record.

Truth Paste is weird, but it’s not incoherent. Despite the apparently revolving door of blooping, whirring keys and sound effects, and tempo changes that would give an F1 driver whiplash (“Napalm Life,” “Dirty 20,” “Death at Burning Man”), the whole thing flows remarkably well. Pretty much all songs transition seamlessly from the previous with overlapping samples, humming melodies, basslines, or keyboard something-or-other. Nuclear Dudes hit their peak at moments when the electronica-mixed-with-guitar transforms into synthwave by way of grind, making for ridiculously fun grooves (“Concussion Protocol,” “Space Juice,” “Pelvis Presley”) if not some very entertaining melodic excursions. Or perhaps the best parts are during those rapid-fire switches, where goofy meets brutal and jaw-smashing breakdowns are followed or preceded by floaty ethereality (“Truth Paste,” “Juggalos for Congress”).

As a novelty band that takes not taking itself seriously quite seriously, Nuclear Dudes are doing everything right. Track titles are dumb, the movie samples cheesy, and the harsh vox mix is a wry recollection of a bygone bedroom death/grind era. Nuclear Dudes own every last second of it, from the roboticised vocals (“Napalm Life,” “Concussion Protocol,” “Cyrus the Virus”) to the videogame battle sequence vibes of the keyboard gymnastics (“Dirty 20,” “Space Juice”). It’s almost annoying how un-annoying it is. And since you effectively experience it as one extended track, given those instant transitions, it becomes very easy to just vibe with it and not worry about which song you’re actually hearing at any moment, or whether what you just heard was genius or just silly. But in having superior flow to its predecessors, Truth Paste also possesses fewer true standout moments. There are no lows, it’s true, but there are also no epic peaks—no “Many Knifes,” for instance. Then again, this record is committing more strongly to the meth-head electro-grind genre than Boss Blades, and in that respect, kind of smashes it.

If you want to have a very entertaining 23 minutes and six seconds, Truth Paste should be your go-to. Nuclear Dudes has taken recruiting a vocalist, and evolving into their full hybrid mad-subgenre form in their stride, as they continue to half-sprint, half-dance ahead. This record is so tight, fun, and irritatingly self-aware that personal taste is practically irrelevant. I’m no longer going to express surprise that anything Nuclear Dudes creates will be fucking great.

Rating: Great
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: September 5th, 2025

#2025 #40 #DeathMetal #EDM #ElectronicMetal #ExperimentalMetal #Grind #Grindcore #NuclearDudes #Powerviolence #Review #Reviews #Sandrider #SelfReleases #Sep25 #Synthwave #TeenCthulhu #TruthPaste #USMetal