Photo Credit: Nedda Afsari
Of the so-called “extreme” artists today, few wield texture with such reverence and precision as Deafheaven. In the past decade and a half, the San Francisco trailblazers have steadily ascended from the shadows of the underground to become the definitive bridge between black metal and shoegaze – a genre-spanning force with few equals. While Alcest may have lit the first spark in this hybrid realm, it is Deafheaven who stoked it into a blaze, carving out the most commercially visible and artistically resonant path in the blackgaze movement. Notwithstanding their gradual success, Deafheaven’s artistic journey has, indeed, been far from linear.
Their debut, 2011’s Roads to Judah was a quiet murmur amidst the done-and-tried experiments into the atmospheric black metal movement that flourished in the late noughties; but 2013’s Sunbather proved to be a career-defining thunderclap. Its unlikely fusion of George Clarke’s tormented howls and Kerry McCoy’s shimmering, emotive guitar work drew universal acclaim; catapulting the band beyond metal circles and onto festival stages where blast beats rarely echo. 2015’s New Bermuda unveiled a more feral incarnation of their sound that earned Deafheaven their first spot in the US Top 70 – this was largely fuelled by Shiv Mehra and Daniel Tracy’s unyielding barrage on guitar-fuzz and percussive duties respectively whilst remaining anchored in an overall gloomier, more punishing sonic core. Not resting on their laurels, the band’s artistic pendulum swung towards light: 2018’s Ordinary Corrupt Human Love introduced not only current bassist Chris Johnson but also a gentler, more expansive sound, which reached its apex in the crystalline shoegaze of 2021’s Infinite Granite – a bold recalibration from a group once mythologised for their emotional and physical intensity that was ultimately met with mixed results.
On first impression, their now sixth album feels like a correction, or perhaps a retreat. Instead, Lonely People with Power finds Deafheaven re-embracing the elemental – screamed vocals, seismic rhythms, and towering crescendos return in full. Yet beneath the noise, something has shifted. This is not a full-scale rejection of their previous evolution, but a synthesis – a conscious effort to merge the radiance of their latter work with the chaos of their earlier output. Song structures here are leaner than ever, yet the thematic and emotional weight remains staggering. It’s the first Deafheaven record that doesn’t overhaul the formula, but still feels like forward motion.
Opening with Incidental I, the first of a triptych of interludes, the record immediately casts a shadowy tone. Drenched in uncanny choral textures and spectral tension, it serves a scathing purpose to both foreshadow and fracture. Transitioning into Doberman, thus, feels sudden and savage – any lingering doubts about the album’s trajectory are obliterated in a blur of pulsating blast beats and anguished tremolo. Building towards its bridge coda, the track blooms into sprawling grandeur – effectively making it one of Deafheaven’s most complete statements. Lead single Magnolia serves as a manifesto of intent: breakneck in pace and coarse in tone, it functions as a pure hit of blackened adrenaline, but still laced with shifting dynamics and clever structural turns that reward repeat listens. The Garden Route expertly manipulates tension and release, using tremolo-picked guitars to build a spectral mood that gives way to explosive choruses and a cathartic outro.
Tonally, the record feels like a kaleidoscope – a testament to the dual vision of producer Justin Meldal-Johnsen and sound editor Zach Weeks who both helped accentuate different tones through the project’s mix with an edge that feels surgical, but never murky. Such a perfect balance is struck on second single Heathen, stretching Clarke’s haunted lilt further than it ever has, before McCoy and Mehra plunge the entire thing headlong into a black metal maelstrom. Elsewhere, the eight-minute odyssey of Amethyst unfolds with patient elegance – Clarke’s voice shifts from spoken-word to tortured screams as swirling guitars layer in; not with blunt-force chugs, but with spiralling intensity. This is Deafheaven’s sonic density at its most graceful – heaviness without abrasion.
Among the more adventurous detours is Incidental II, where Jae Matthews of darkwave stalwarts Boy Harsher brings a bruised, industrial minimalism to the fold. Over mechanical synth pulses, her hushed yet commanding voice draws a line of vulnerability, ending with an aching plea: “desperate to be alone.” Perhaps the record’s most metallic detonation, Revelator interprets today’s world through apocalyptic metaphor under the guise of thrashing riffs and pent-up aggression. Body Behavior digs deep into themes of masculinity, opening with a disturbing father-son exchange that interrogates power and sexuality in unsettling detail. The mood shifts gears once more, carrying a twitchy post-punk swagger with venomous bite. Clarke’s vocals are snarled rather than screamed, and the band leans into a punk-metal groove that feels both fresh and organic.
Incidental III offers a momentary reprieve, but ultimately feels not like a continuation but a rupture, as if the record itself splits open. Led by Paul Banks of Interpol fame, his subdued spoken-word delivery sways more towards narrative than performance; bleeding directly into the euphoric build of Winona. Arguably the album’s most transcendent moment, its structure feels vast with its major chords and shrieked vocals weaving together in a shimmering monolith. Closer The Marvelous Orange Tree feels like a departure wrapped in reverie – intentionally subdued, Clarke’s melodious vocals wrap the record in cinematic, mournful finality.
For longtime fans and scene enthusiasts, this album will be hailed as a return to form. Yet Lonely People with Power is a towering achievement not because it reconciles Deafheaven’s dual identities, but rather in how it magnifies them. Fifteen years in, the band sounds wholly and unmistakably their own – still pushing, still searching, still themselves.
9/10
Standout Tracks: Magnolia, Revelator, Winona
For Fans Of: Oathbreaker, Wolves in the Throne Room, Liturgy
Written by: Dimitris Vasileias
