Album Review: Existential Depression – Existential Depression
If you’re into music that punches you in the gut and then whispers, “Hey, it’s gonna be okay… maybe,” then Existential Depression by Existential Depression is your jam. Released in 2014 (yep, a decade ago—time flies when you're busy not existing), this self-released death metal masterpiece hails from the US and delivers exactly what its name promises: heavy riffs, existential dread, and enough aggression to make Nietzsche nod approvingly.
Let’s dive into the chaos. The album kicks off with "Decomposition Of The Internal Process," which sounds like your inner monologue after too much coffee and not enough sleep. It’s relentless, brooding, and oddly cathartic. You know those moments when life feels like an endless spiral? This track captures that vibe perfectly, but with blast beats. By the time the guitars screech their way through the outro, you’ll feel oddly cleansed—as if someone just exorcised your anxiety demons.
Then there’s "Cognitive Dissonance," a standout banger that hits harder than realizing you’ve been arguing online for two hours about pineapple pizza. The riffs are jagged, the vocals sound like they were recorded in the depths of despair itself, and the pacing keeps you hooked. I mean, who doesn’t love a song title that doubles as a fancy term for mental gymnastics? If ever there was a soundtrack for questioning all your life choices while simultaneously headbanging, this is it.
Tracks like "Sycophant Masses" and "Breeding Fraudulence" round out the album with themes of societal decay and personal hypocrisy. They’re brutal, sure, but also kinda poetic—if poetry involved growling unintelligibly over double bass drums. And let’s not forget the titular track, "Existential Depression," because nothing screams authenticity like naming your band and album after the same mood.
What makes this record stick is how unapologetically raw it feels. There’s no glossy production or radio-friendly hooks here; just pure, unfiltered rage wrapped in technical prowess. It’s like listening to someone scream into the void—and honestly, sometimes we need that.
So, would I recommend Existential Depression? Absolutely. Unless you’re looking for something upbeat to play at a kid’s birthday party, in which case, please don’t. But hey, if nihilism had a soundtrack, this might be it. Or maybe it’s just really loud therapy. Either way, crank it up and embrace the absurdity of existence—or at least pretend to until the neighbors complain.
P.S. Fun fact: Writing this review made me question whether I actually exist. Thanks, guys.
