Album Review: Bloodwall – Bloodwall
Released in 2010, Bloodwall by the US-based band Bloodwall is one of those albums that sneaks up on you. It’s a genre-blurring experiment, dipping its toes into Folk, World, Country, Blues, and Rock while keeping things acoustic and raw. Self-released under their own label (Not On Label), this record feels like an unfiltered glimpse into the band’s creative chaos. And honestly? That’s what makes it stick.
One track that really grabs you is “What Hell.” It’s got this haunting, stripped-down vibe that feels like a campfire gone wrong—like someone just whispered a secret they shouldn’t have. The instrumentation is sparse but deliberate, with acoustic guitar lines that crawl under your skin. There’s no grand crescendo here, just a slow burn that leaves you unsettled in the best way possible. You remember it because it doesn’t try too hard; it just exists, and somehow that’s enough.
Then there’s “Burn A Hole In The Horizon,” which takes a sharp left turn into something more experimental. It starts off with this bluesy shuffle, but halfway through, it veers into territory that feels almost otherworldly. The vocals are ragged, like they’ve been dragged across gravel, and the lyrics? Cryptic as hell. But that’s the charm—it’s not about spelling everything out for you. It’s about creating a mood, a feeling you can’t quite shake off.
The album isn’t perfect, though. Some tracks meander a bit too much, losing their grip when they could’ve pushed harder. But maybe that’s the point. Bloodwall isn’t interested in playing it safe or giving you easy answers. They’re here to mess with your expectations, to make you lean in a little closer.
What’s wild is how Bloodwall manages to feel both ancient and modern at the same time. It’s like listening to a ghost story told by someone who’s still figuring it out themselves. By the time the last note fades, you’re left wondering: Was this even music, or was it some kind of séance? Either way, it lingers.
Final thought? If you’re looking for something polished and predictable, keep walking. But if you want an album that feels alive—flaws and all—this might just be your new favorite thing. Who knew self-released folk-rock could feel so… dangerous?
