Bleed’s self-titled LP tightens the riffs while sinking deeper into the haze. It is melodic heaviness rendered in widescreen, immersive, relentless, and just polished enough to gleam through the murk.
Mad Season gather Seattle’s bruised royalty into a record that feels half séance, half comedown. Layne Staley’s voice drifts through the bluesy fog, making even the softest moments feel dangerously exposed.
Broken Record turn daily grind and late-stage dread into clean-lined post-emo tension. Routine is anxious, direct, and tuneful, the sound of small collapses arranged into ten sharp shapes.
Shame sound less rebuilt than weaponized on Cutthroat. With John Congleton tightening the bolts, the band turn chaos into forward motion, snarling through a record built for impact.
Vundabar’s Good Old is a scrappy map of the band between breakthroughs. Acoustic reworks sit beside raw, elastic older sessions, catching punk, art-pop, grunge, and indie rock in mid-combustion.
