30:54 // September 2, 2025 // independent release
Wonder of wonders, it looks like 2025 might be the year I finally become a full-fledged screamo fan. Life’s latest joins Boneflower’s recent stunner as statement releases from a genre which I’ve always found a tough nut to crack. For the uninitiated, Life is a skramz-focused project within the larger body of work of Damian Ojeda, a wunderkind releasing approximately two hundred well-received LPs a year (editor’s note: no count was performed, who has that kind of time?) under a multitude of monikers. Against that backdrop, Demo Eleven feels shockingly realized, well-crafted, and thematically coherent despite its creator’s absurd rate of output. Blending screamo bangers with metalcore tinges and Midwest emo displays, Ojeda goes for the heart here - everything is raw, and even at its heaviest moments, there’s a sweetly earnest tone present. As screamo releases are apt to be, there’s plenty of melodrama to be found here, but not too much, and the mood feels just right. Besides, these tracks rip - just listen to the chugging heaviness of “pink and black” or the sloppily anthemic “loveletters”. Ultimately, the everyday beauty of the album artwork is well-chosen, as this is a heartwarming release filled to the brim with nostalgic sentiment and delicate emotion, evoking blink and you’ll miss it sunsets, the transient perfection of crisp autumn days, and the fragile wonders of human love. Hey, I said it was dramatic.
8.5/10