I’m of a “certain age”—like, if I were a cricketer, I’d be raising my bat later this year to mark a half-century.
That does mean, though, that while I haven’t—and never will—reached the point that a couple of my mates have, where they just dispense with modern music altogether, some modern metal is weird and scary to me. “Why are they shouting?” “What’s happening?”
But in all of these things, there’s always one band that shines through—and in this case, it’s Malevolence. Their gig in Wolverhampton in February 2024 was so good it moved me to say: “Indeed, there’s a very real chance Malevolence are the best band of their type on these shores right now, because this evening was essentially a victory lap.”
They’ve been making serious waves—and they’ve got some serious friends. Randy Blythe appearing on the album means they couldn’t care less what Andy from the West Midlands thinks of “Where Only The Truth Is Spoken”, but nonetheless…
It’s a masterclass.
In truth, they know it. They have the confidence of a band that knows it. “…Spoken” was recorded in California at Dave Grohl’s legendary Studio 606. The album was tracked through the iconic Neve 8078 console—the same desk used on records like Nevermind, Rumours, and Wildflowers—and they’ve brought in Josh Wilbur to twiddle the knobs and produce. He’s worked with metal A-listers for years. He’s working with another here.
“Blood to the Leech” could start a moshpit in a morgue—even before Alex Taylor has screamed a note. It’s vicious. It’s heavy.
But it—like a lot of Northern metal—is rooted in truth. “Trenches” is a forceful challenge to the hangers-on. Like: you didn’t like us on the first two albums, so don’t creep around now. But it’s more than that. It’s a band who knows who their people are.
The slight problem is, they’re too good to just stay with “their people”. The heavy call to arms of “If It’s All the Same to You”, or the quite brilliant “Counterfeit”—the kind of thing Machine Head thought they had cornered—rather prove that.
That said, Malevolence aren’t copying anyone. The pace change of “Salt the Wound” builds into an apocalyptic soundscape, and when Charlie Thorpe’s drums anchor down “So Hope Me God”, they do so in a way that almost demands entry into the Premier League. How they do “so heavy, so catchy” is beyond me.
This isn’t the metal of Maiden, Priest, or Saxon—but it’s thundering with anger on “Imperfect Picture”.
Konan Hall and Josh Baines are as good a guitar duo as there is, and when they’re able to craft songs as strong as “Heavens Shake”, it makes the band quite the proposition.
Which brings us to “In Spite”. Like being slammed with a concrete 2×4, the aforementioned Lamb of God frontman is in sensational form here. But crucially, he never outclasses the main band.
There’s a relentless, punk-like energy to stuff like “Demonstration of Pain”, and the tightest, heaviest 42 minutes—perhaps of 2025—ends with “With Dirt from My Grave”. Its first line—”I don’t need wars to tell my story, my scars will tell it for me”—neglects the truth that all these songs already do that.
On “Trenches”, there’s a line spoken at the start: “Where only the truth is spoken.” He’s talking about Yorkshire.
We do a bit of that here too, mind you—and here’s the truth: “Where Only the Truth Is Spoken” is the best modern metal album by a British band in years.
Rating: 9.5/10
