Saudade.
A Portuguese word said to capture longing, melancholy, nostalgia — a deep, unresolved ache for something lost or just out of reach.
Which is funny, really. Because if Saudade were truly melancholy, it would still probably try to break something on the way past.
This is Deez Nuts’ first album in five years and any suggestion that time might have softened them is laughed out of the room within seconds. JJ Peters and guitarist RealBad are now joined by Apolinário “Poli” Correia (Devil In Me, Sam Alone & The Gravediggers) and Jesse Labovitz (No Warning), making the line-up more international than ever — and paradoxically more locked-in, more dangerous.
If Saudade is about longing, it’s not the wistful, star-gazing kind. It’s the kind that tightens your jaw and dares the world to make the next move.
“ICU” opens the record by reminding you just how broad a church punk and hardcore really is. It’s urgent, gnarly, and blunt — a perfect table-flip of an introduction that says we’re back without ceremony.
“Kill This Shit” follows and does exactly what it promises. Sloganeering hardcore with an implied threat, riffs built for circle pits, and zero interest in subtlety. It crushes — gloriously so.
“5 Gold Chains” shows Deez Nuts at their most deceptively catchy. There’s something raw and urban running through it, like these hooks were dragged up from the streets rather than carefully written in a studio. It sticks without ever going soft.
“Russian Roulette” digs deeper. Peters opens with “I got a question… I got a deep concern, if I don’t care that tomorrow never comes,” and that sense of nihilism seeps into every crack. It’s bleak, but not passive — anger used as armour.
“Uncut Gems” toys with melody before snapping halfway through, reminding you that comfort is never the point. That push-and-pull between hook and hammer is one of Saudade’s defining traits.
“Miss Me With That” feels like a mission statement. “This ain’t what you want,” they warn — and the constant sense of upset, of friction with the world, is exactly what powers this record forward.
“Hang the Hangman”, featuring Andrew Neufeld of Comeback Kid (who also produces the album), is the heaviest moment here by a long stretch. These are natural bedfellows, and when Peters spits about being “forever on trial,” it lands like a sentence being handed down.
“God Damn” is completely off the leash, even by Deez Nuts’ standards, and drummer Jesse Labovitz sounds like he’s having the time of his life flattening everything in front of him.
“Give ’Em Hell” sharpens the edges again with a stronger metal bite, before closer “Cold Sweat” stretches out to nearly prog-length by this band’s measure. More textured, more spacious, but no less intense — it’s an unexpectedly expansive way to end a relentlessly coiled record.
A quick glance at Spotify shows an E for Explicit stamped on every single track. At this point it’s less a warning and more a badge of honour. If you came here for clean language and gentle introspection, you’ve wandered into the wrong pit.
Saudade may be rooted in longing, but Deez Nuts turn that feeling into something physical — clenched fists, sweat-slick floors, bruises you wear proudly the next day. It doesn’t dwell. It reacts.
In short: if you were hoping five years away might have calmed them down —
sorry. These Deez Nuts still hit hard.
