A perfect combination of modern vitality and old-school ethics, MALEVOLENCE have one of the most fearsome reputations in all of contemporary metal. Largely fueled by their devastating prowess as a live band, the Sheffield quintet have been an unstoppable steamroller over the last few years, conquering every stage they play on, and getting the official nod of respect from an array of modern metal luminaries (not least Randy Blythe). Each of the band’s albums to date has been greeted with great acclaim, and perhaps in spite of their fiercely held DIY convictions, the move to a big label for 2022’s “Malicious Intent” made so much sense that nobody could be bothered to argue. Although they carry themselves with humility, MALEVOLENCE have always seemed like a band with huge things ahead of them.

It certainly helps that they have such a massive, skull-flattening sound. “Where Only The Truth Is Spoken” somehow manages to build on the eviscerating crunch of its aforementioned predecessor, with a production that has all the splintered-bone harshness of PANTERA‘s “Far Beyond Driven” but upgraded to include cutting-edge levels of bottom-end bombast. Opening track Blood To The Leech” is an absolute monster, with riffs that wrench gristle from bone, and air-tight transitions and dynamics that speak volumes about how many gigs MALEVOLENCE have played over the years. In the best possible way, there is an arrogance to their performance. It’s the sound of a band that know exactly how good they are, while still wanting to be bigger, better, heavier, harder. By the time “Trenches” erupts like a fistfight — “Who the fuck are you?” bellows frontman Alex Taylor, “Never fucking heard of you!” — there seems little point in resisting. MALEVOLENCE are here to crush all comers. It’s a done deal.

The sheer number of riffs that will make rational metalheads want to bang their heads until they vomit is just silly. Songs like “If It’s All The Same To You”, which has Louisianan swamp ooze all over its CROWBAR T-shirt, sit neatly beside outright batterings like “Counterfeit”, wherein ribcage-rattling thrash is beefed up with old-school hardcore steroids and sent spinning into the heart of a circle pit, on the way to a brutish beatdown climax.

Elsewhere, the aforementioned Mr. Blythe roars like a maniac on evil mosh doom-deluge “In Spite”; “Salt The Wound” is a righteous act of PANTERA worship that dares to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with its chief source of inspiration; and “Demonstration Of Pain” is a tangled web of staccato sludge, mutant mood-swings and lobotomized vehemence. Meanwhile, the closing “With Dirt Upon My Grave” subverts the metalcore blueprint with thinly disguised delight, snapping from EXODUS-style riffing to hazy, scabrous hardcore, and loudly encouraging listeners to throw their furniture around. Or at least that how it seems. MALEVOLENCE are undeniable at this point. These songs are going to reduce venues to piles of smoking rubble. People are going to lose their minds. This machine grinds forward, consuming all in its path. Excellent, life-affirming times.