“You’re either with us or against us, ain’t no middle in the trenches.”
That line from “Roll Call” in the middles of the record, exemplifies the tone for Valley Of Death II whether Lionheart spell it out or not. No fence-sitting. No grey areas. You’re in, or you’re out. And in 2026, nine days into a year already drowning in death, destruction, political absurdity and outright cruelty, it lands with uncomfortable force.
If the world really is heading for the end of days, Lionheart have turned up with the soundtrack.
This is the band’s first album since 2023’s Welcome To The West Coast III, but spiritually it’s a direct follow-up to 2019’s Valley Of Death. Rob Watson and the band do what they’ve always done: strip everything back to brute truth, delivered with fists clenched and teeth bared. No polish. No apology. No Fucks Given
“Bulletproof” opens things in confrontational fashion, all blunt force and battered pride, before “Chewing Through The Leash” doubles down on class struggle and unhealed scars and features Kubla Khan. These songs don’t ask for sympathy – they demand recognition. Everywhere you look on this record, there’s a slogan, a line designed to be shouted back, because Lionheart understand exactly where their power lies.
“Ice Cold” arrives with sirens screaming and feels genuinely punishing, while the title track “Valley Of Death II” pulls you directly into the pit with them. It’s not observational hardcore – it’s immersive. You don’t watch the chaos unfold; you stand in it.
“No Peace” offers a twisted nod to “I Can’t Stand The Rain”, reworked into something grimy and street-level, while “Salt The Earth” continues the scorched-ground approach. There’s no rebuilding here – just survival. “Release The Dogs” does exactly what it promises, and “In Love With The Pain” briefly pauses to question whether love and humanity even have a place left in a world this broken. In 2026? Who knows.
The album closes with “Death Grip”, and Day To Remember wade in with sirens wailing and tension suffocating. In light of the week’s events, it’s hard not to hear it as a reflection on state power, authority, and the cold machinery of enforcement hello ICE,— whether that was the band’s intention or not. Either way, it lands hard and unsettling, ending the record with the sense that no one can hear you scream.
Lionheart do not make easy listening. They don’t chase radio play, they don’t write sing-alongs for the mainstream – and yet their recent European tours shifting over 20,000 tickets tell the real story. They tap into anger, frustration, and disillusionment with frightening accuracy. In a world that feels increasingly like it’s collapsing in on itself, Valley Of Death II offers no comfort and no compromise — only a demand.
Like they say, you’re either with them or against them. There’s no middle in the trenches. If this really is the end of days, Lionheart are daring you to pick a side.
Rating: 8.5/10
