REVIEW: Despised Icon - Shadow Work

The real shadow work was the friends we sparked out along the way

36:28 // October 31st, 2025 // Nuclear Blast

For those unfamiliar with The Holy Word of Deathcore, Genesis (of the pig squeal) 1:1 reads: ‘In the beginning, there was Despised Icon’. One of the OG MySpace-era deathcore bands, they served as that rare outfit almost every fan of the genre could agree on. Their riffs were fat, their breakdowns huge. Oh, they also had two vocalists (ooh-rah, where’s my camo shorts and most unwashed vest?): Alex Erian for mid-range, and Steve Marois for the whistling-kettle lows. With the deathcore renaissance in full swing, Despised Icon’s first album in nearly six years feels like Prince Naseem front-flipping into the ring once more — strutting, showboating and throwing haymakers like it’s 1997. For those of you whose ears still work, ‘Deathcore’ — a portmanteau of ‘death metal’ and ‘hardcore’ — fuses the fast-paced, junk-food structuring of the latter with the uncompromising brutality of the former. Despised Icon always felt a little different to me; yes, they had elements of both genres, but they ostensibly felt like a hardcore band caked in death metal aggression rather than a red-blooded crossbreed of the two. They were like a death metal band playing covers of their favourite Blood For Blood tracks. Shadow Work recaptures many of these signature tropes, pairing them with more personal, confrontational themes — though it occasionally misses the mark. As with Purgatory, however, the band lean harder into classic death metal standards — and the experience is nothing if not an explosive detonation of pure chonk.

That’s not to say that the album doesn’t traffic in the classic deathcore sound, with the pummelling ‘‘Reaper’’ being a prime example. The rabble-rousing br00tal(TM) vocals, plodding breakdown and trilling sweeps ensure a high ol’ time, and almost certainly a bittersweet nostalgic reverie. The record generally coasts by at rollercoaster speed, launching into its title track immediately and setting the tone in no uncertain terms. It’s pit-fuel, pure and simple, homemade with kerosene and a bunch of rusty nails. Huge chugs, pelvis-teasing grooves, blastbeats aplenty and abrasive vocals that remind me of the days when I still had some bone density (and a functioning neck). The hardcore influence is still very overt, and first bares its fangs in a wide grin on following track ‘‘Over My Dead Body’’, with its breakdown-disguised-as-a-chorus and bree-bree actual breakdown that consumes almost the whole second half of the track. ‘‘The Apparition’’’s enraged deathcore tornado and thumping downtempo outro also strikes an excellent balance of hardcore and death metal sensibilities, allowing for a greater emphasis on bludgeoning evolution within the cut without sacrificing energy.

As a band, Despised Icon always had their intended sound down to a fine art, and although not a huge amount has changed in the interim for the band sonically, there are instances where fatigue sets in. This is chiefly due to the repetition of structure — the tried-and-true methodology sometimes leads to cuts blurring together, much like the concussions I sustained seeing this kind of music live as a teen. With so many galloping grooves, some run-together was inevitable, but almost every song here still offers something memorable to stave off any flatlining. ‘‘Obsessive Compulsive Disaster’’’s beatdown bent is such a moment, breaking out that slamming intensity with feverish chugging and crowdkill-ready shout-alongs. It’s satisfying, even if the preceding segue doesn’t quite inspire. Nonetheless, the album remains technically impressive and consistently demonstrates instrumental brains to keep pace with the apoplectic brawn.

A pinchful of cues are taken from acts that have become popular on the scene in more recent times (To The Grave, Lorna Shore etc — the usual suspects, you know…), such as more pronounced orchestral elements and other assorted instrumental gimmickry, and these help diversify the sound somewhat (the opening and clean(er) vocal elements of ‘‘In Memoriam’’ are nice touches). Still, such facets feel like brief asides rather than integral aspects of the music, and the album is at its meanest and most magnetic when it simply wallows in its own filth, such as on ‘‘Death of an Artist’’ and ‘‘ContreCoeur’’. The production bears some responsibility for the lessened impact too, as despite the songwriting mostly feeling punchy and grimacing, moments where the mix needs to pop, such as on breakdowns, heavier bridges and group vocals, feel a little flat (laptop speaker-core will be huge next year, tune in to watch me eat my words). ‘‘Corpse Pose’’ feels consistently brutal throughout until it sidesteps into its extended breakdown, which is suitably meaty, but feels shortchanged by the flattened, hardcore-esque production, mugging it of its intended grit. This isn’t much of an issue during the main body of most songs, but when violent shoves into pronounced barbarity occur, the experience could benefit from a smidge more visceral aggression. When the breakdowns hit, we want drywall dust being shaken out of the rafters, not a politely controlled detonation.

Shadow Work does a great deal right in its blistering 36-minute pilgrimage, breaking out a slew of deathcore staples to satisfy the old guard whilst intuitively blending it with more standard traditional death metal tropes. Where it falters in production choices and songwriting homogeny, it deftly smooths over with brash instrumentation and teeth-grinding vocal performances. Although it doesn’t quite stretch to the heights of The Ills Of Modern Man or Day Of Mourning standards fans would secretly have been praying for, it’s still a prime cut of modern deathcore with an over-the-shoulder wink to the genre’s, ahem, golden age, and a worthy heir to 2019’s Purgatory. Just in case you needed more proof these guys are still capable of caving in a rib cage or two.

7/10