#usmetal — Public Fediverse posts

Seeking revenge for her son’s death, Grendel’s mother thrusts her sword at Beowulf. ‘Him on eaxle læg / breostnet broden,’ the Beowulf poet pens,1 ‘þæt gebearh feore, / wið ord ond wið ecge ingang forstod.’ For those unfluent in Old English: Beowulf’s chainmail saved his life, withstanding both the edge and ‘ord’ (tip/spear) of the vengeful matriarch’s sword. From this archaic term for the spear of a sword, Ordh derives its appellation, which may suggest to readers an Anglo-Saxon-themed war metal outfit. That (killer) Paolo Girardi artwork, however, screams cosmic-prog death,2 with Blind in Abyssal Realms being the Vermont quartet’s first full-length lunge at the metal community. Ordh will need to be sharper than the sword of Grendel’s mother, though, for the generic chainmail of progressive death metal is more tightly braided than that adorned by the King of the Geats.3

The cosmic-prog death of Blind in Abyssal Realms claims roots in an earthier subgenre. After the dissolution of progressive sludgers Barishi, guitarist Graham Brooks joined forces with vocalist Jonathan Hébert of sludge-doomers Come to Grief to form a new band. In shifting from the slurry of sludge to the heft of death metal while retaining progressive and doom elements, Ordh ends up sounding like an atmospheric Mortiferum. Brooks’s riffs, whether on low or high strings, always possess grandeur, and his solos splotch like Jackson Pollock splashing paint across a canvas. Brooks also engineered the album’s synths, which are noticeable but never overpower the guitarwork. Hébert’s gutturals keep things terrestrial, hollering at the heavens from his earth-bound cave. Joining Brooks and Hébert are rhythm section Josh Smith (bass) and Dylan Blake (drums, ex-Barishi). Blake especially shines, mixing typical death-metal pounding with jazzy roving and glorious rototom runs. Given Ordh’s previous experience in sludge, it’s impressive how sharp their first attempt at cosmic-prog death is, standing toe to toe with the likes of Cosmic Putrefaction and Blood Incantation.

Blind in Abyssal Realms by Ordh

What makes Blind in Abyssal Realms cut deep is its balancing of atmosphere with instantly memorable riffs. Opener “Apis Bull” perfectly demonstrates this dichotomy; its big, bendy Oldpeth figure alternates with a spacey, higher-register version of itself before exploring new terrain. Similarly, “Moon of Urd” rises with a delightfully demented earworm that reveals a lush blanket of pure psych twilight. “Phlegraean Fields,” the most adventurous song on here, builds an ever-morphing, synth-laden melody, capturing a stranger surveying a mythical landscape with terror-tinged curiosity.4 Right out the gate, Ordh understands that the ‘cosmic’ in ‘cosmic-prog death’ should not be cosmetic. Indeed, the synths support consistently superb riffs on this debut, imbuing them with enriching depth.

Some aspects of Blind in Abyssal Realms dull its attack. Production-wise, the record sounds good but lacks a bit of low end. The caveman parts don’t hit as hard as they should; Blake’s kick drum could use more oomph, and Smith’s bass is frequently hard to detect in anything other than clean sections. Concerning the album’s pacing, the last two tracks don’t quite measure up to the ascending quality of the opening trio. “Blind in Abyssal Realms” is a strong song that, at over 12 minutes, could use editing. “Hierothesion” refreshingly closes out the record as its most straightforward pummeler, but similarly, some concision would amplify its effect. And as for originality, Ordh mostly sounds like itself, though occasionally, combinations of blast beats, dive bombs, and ‘aaaghs!’ are a bit too on the Blood Incantation nose.

Nitpicks aside, Ordh drives home its point with Blind in Abyssal Realms. This is an impressive debut that makes a mark on progressive death metal. Comprised of five tracks at just under 45 minutes, Blind in Abyssal Realms advances as a filler-free affair, trading violent slashes with chilled-out parries in a manner inviting repeat engagements. Fans of the genre should definitely spar with this sonic sword. Swīðe gōd weorc, Ordh!

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Pulverised Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 17th, 2026

Weeping Sores – The Convalescence Agonies [Things You Might Have Missed 2025]

By Creeping Ivy

Pleasure—as Judas Priest, sadomasochists, and Flagellants teach us—can be found in pain. Doug Moore and Stephen Schwegler, the guitar/drum duo behind Weeping Sores, also teach this lesson with The Convalescence Agonies. As its title suggests, the sophomore Weeping Sores album chronicles Moore’s recovery from a shoulder injury that, quite unfortunately, prevented him from playing guitar.1 Quite fortunately for us, Moore sublimates his agony into the listener’s ecstasy with The Convalescence Agonies. Debut False Confession received high praise here, making the 2019 lists of Saunders (Honorable Mention), Cherd of Doom (#8), and Ferrous Beuller (#4). On its follow-up, Weeping Sores deliver a leaner, lusher, and eminently listable slab of death-doom.

On The Convalescence Agonies, Weeping Sores level up by scaling back. False Confession established that Moore and Schwegler of Pyrrhon fame could successfully craft a more plodding, brooding death metal, sounding like Morbid Angel making proclamations to My Dying Bride. At 56 minutes with multiple 9- and 10-minute songs, however, the album definitely fatigues. In comparison, The Convalescence Agonies clocks in at 43 minutes, energizing the listener by lurking towards its epic compositions. Moore’s climbing guitar and anguished screams in “Arctic Summer” segue into “Empty Vessel Hymn,” a heater showcasing Schwegler’s jazzy hands. The mid-album climax, “Sprawl in the City of Sorrow,” spreads chunky, blasty, and militaristic riffs across 9 breezy minutes. “Pleading for the Scythe” mixes delicate chords, lumbering beatdowns, and off-kilter shredding, setting the stage for the title track. “The Convalescence Agonies,” a 14-minute monster, boasts the stankiest, dumpiest chuggery on the entire album. Without compromising the scope of its songwriting, Weeping Sores have crafted a tighter, better-paced album than the debut.

False Confession stans might weep when learning that the violin of Gina Hendrika Eygenhuysen does not appear on The Convalescence Agonies. In its place is the cello of Annie Blythe, which directs a broader ensemble of ancillary instrumentation. Like Eygenhuysen’s violin, Blythe’s cello often occupies center stage, dramatizing sparse verses (“Arctic Summer”) and blasty tremolos (“The Convalescence Agonies”). Arguably, the deeper tone of the cello better suits the music, feeling like an extension of the scooped guitar tone. Weeping Sores also incorporate keyboards from Brendon Randall-Myers (Scarcity), which add a refined, almost proggy aura to caveman breakdowns and hyperspeed chugging (“Pleading for the Scythe”). There’s even banjo in “Sprawl…,” commingling with Blythe’s percussive cello to make a demented guitar lead far more unsettling.2 Some listeners will miss the brighter, more melodically commanding presence of the violin. The Convalescence Agonies more than makes up for Eygenhuysen’s absence, however, with its wider array of sonic textures.

As Moore howls on the title track, the body’s pain ‘teaches nothing…no gift / But the passion of transfiguration.’3 Pain may not teach anything to the suffering speaker or Moore himself, but The Convalescence Agonies teaches us that Weepings Sores is one of the most promising contemporary death-doom projects. Moore and Schwegler have transfigured False Confession into something more beautiful without sacrificing their disgustingly awesome death metal core. Sadly, this TYMHM treatment may not arrive in time to register during Listurnalia. Consider, then, The Convalescence Agonies an honorary Honorable Mention for me (and several others around here, I suspect).

Tracks to Check Out: “Arctic Summer,” “Sprawl in the City of Sorrow,” “The Convalescence Agonies”

#2025 #DeathDoom #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #IVoidhangerRecords #MorbidAngel #MyDyingBride #Pyrrhon #Scarcity #TheConvalescenceAgonies #ThingsYouMightHaveMissed2025 #TYMHM #USMetal #WeepingSores

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

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

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

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