The new wave of hardcore has produced some incredibly exciting bands over the last few years, and there isn’t one that sounds even slightly as unhinged like Vein.fm. Their new album ‘This World Is Going To Ruin You’ is both a statement and a warning, and it’s one you should pay attention to.
This album takes everything that made their 2018 debut album ‘Errorzone’ so appealing – just shy of half an hour of pure, unfiltered chaos – and puts it in a bottle, drops in a few new ingredients and frantically shakes it all together. The end result is like an erupting cola bottle after you drop a Mentos into it, but you don’t need the Mentos; it’s volatile enough on its own. Also, the bottle explodes and blows up your house. Also, it curses you and you’re being haunted now. If you scare easily, listen to this during the day in a safe space, because you can’t listen to it at home anymore on account of your house being blown up. Oops.
The band have become known for their boundless energy and relentless, crushing music, and this new album sees them fearlessly torpedo further down that path. The pulverising stabs of ‘Welcome Home’ command your neck muscles straight into action, with industrial tones and feedback wails attacking your eardrums from every angle. Then, first single ‘The Killing Womb’ bursts into the fray, unleashing all the dissonant rage to produce a truly feral roar. That outro breakdown will be like a tidal wave of freezing cold water – if you weren’t paying attention, you will be now.
‘Hellnight’ is one of the highlights of this record, an ever evolving fright-fest that’s exactly as heavy as a song called ‘Hellnight’ should be. Intense riff assaults, short bursts of blast beats, walls of noise and even a child’s laughter, a classic sign of THIS IS GOING TO BE HORRIBLE from any horror film – it’s grotesque in the absolute best way possible. ‘Orgy In The Morgue’ is huge too, an ominous dark orb that slowly grows in size before consuming everything that surrounds it with that colossal closing explosion.
There are some short bursts of fury here, too. ’Fear In Non Fiction’ is a sure-fire pit-starter, ‘Lights Out’ is a deathly sharp white knuckle ride that rockets through an ever-evolving evil, ‘Inside Design’ is a furious nu-metal blast complete with scratching and Machine Head-esque harmonics – they all deliver huge punches, but you can’t help wishing they lasted a little longer. The songs are all great, and you can bet that they would cause pandemonium live (and they are an INSANE live band, to their credit), but on record, these tracks all feel like they’re over too soon.
There’s some nice surprises here too that come in the form of a less aggressive, all-round calmer side of the band. The anthemic ‘Magazine Beach’, is almost like a post-hardcore meets nu-metal mash-up, blending catchy vocal hooks with their meaty guitars to add a slightly brighter colour to their mostly dark palette. The expansive and cinematic ‘Wavery’ is a masterstroke too, shining a spotlight on the potential this band has and how fast they’re evolving into something way beyond a hardcore band. The delicate opening minute slowly builds towards an earth-shattering blow then slowly turns the dial back down to zero, providing continuous goosebumps.
‘Funeral Sound’ is the standout here, though, and it’s for two reasons. It’s by far the most mature sounding track they’ve ever made, channelling their darkness and chaos into a much more stable form without making it feel too polished. It’s also masterfully written and plays out a narrative of sorts, the introduction building towards an answerphone message that, upon saying “bye”, explodes into emotional bedlam. It bookends an album that overall is utterly pulverising, but one that has the occasional ray of hope shining through.
This is audio equivalent of dropping a computer in a bathtub and, instead of destroying the electronics, it creates a bloodthirsty mechanical monster. There’s a few moments where it questions whether killing and smashing things is really the right thing to do, then it remembers it was dropped in a bathtub and carries on. There’s this feeling of uncertainty that runs throughout the record, a potential horror lurking around every corner, and time and time again it proves that you simply can’t predict what’s coming next. For the most part it’s unsettling and dangerous, which makes the turns into the softer moments feel just that little bit more special, and those moments of calm are something that their debut was missing. They’ve truly grown, and the beast they’ve become is very hungry.
It’s highly possible that this world is going to ruin you. This album just might too. Absolutely terrifying in the best way possible.
DAVE STEWART