The Waking Void by Unfurl: A Sonic Dive into Chaos and Beauty
If you’re the kind of person who likes their music to feel like a punch in the gut followed by a warm hug, The Waking Void by Unfurl is gonna hit just right. Released in 2019 outta the US, this album doesn’t sit neatly in one box—it’s all over the place but in the best way possible. Death metal riffs collide with post-rock soundscapes, black metal shrieks bleed into post-hardcore catharsis, and somehow it works. It’s messy, raw, and unapologetically human.
One track that sticks with me is “Blue Rose.” Man, this song feels like staring at something beautiful while knowing it’s slipping away from you. The opening riff hits hard—like, "whoa, where did THAT come from?"—and then it shifts gears so smoothly you don’t even realize until you're floating in this atmospheric haze. There’s this moment near the middle where everything drops out except for these haunting clean vocals, and damn if it doesn’t give me chills every time. It's not perfect—it’s rough around the edges—but that’s what makes it real. Feels like they didn’t overthink it; they just let it happen.
Then there’s “Ritual of Fire,” which is pure chaos unleashed. This thing kicks off with blast beats and tremolo picking sharp enough to cut glass, but halfway through, it takes a left turn into this almost meditative groove. Like, wait…are we still in the same song? But instead of feeling disjointed, it feels like two sides of the same coin—one side screaming its head off, the other whispering secrets only you can hear. By the end, I’m always left breathless, wondering how the hell they pulled that off without losing me along the ride.
Unfurl isn’t signed to some big label—they’re doing their own thing under Not On Label—and honestly, that adds to the charm. No corporate polish here, just dudes pouring their guts into their art. Tracks like “Void” and “Null” double down on the heaviness, while “Post-Modern Prometheus” throws curveballs that keep you guessing. And yeah, sure, maybe “Ancestral Spirit” could’ve been trimmed by thirty seconds, but hey, imperfections make things memorable, right?
Listening to The Waking Void, I couldn’t help thinking about how life itself feels like this mixtape of beauty and brutality. One second you’re soaring, the next you’re crawling through muck. This album gets that. It doesn’t try to fix anything or tie things up in a neat little bow—it just exists, wild and untamed.
You know what’s funny though? For an album called The Waking Void, it made me wanna dream more than ever. Go figure.
