I was honestly starting to lose hope for metalcore as a whole. Very few bands felt like they were keeping things alive enough to say that it’s all still kicking. Out of the blue comes In Spite of Me, ready to shake things up. Like any good metalcore-adjacent record, In Spite of Me‘s blightflower is foaming at its seams with blindingly hot anger, churning riffs, hard hitting hooks, soaring melodies, and enough power to demolish a mountain. I think it’s been probably over a decade since I’ve heard a debut this promising, never mind something that delivers so satisfyingly at both a musical and lyrical level.
In an age where most likely nothing will ever be truly novel again, originality is scrapped for profit, and emotions are traded for clicks and whatever else you can conjure, it’s a breath of fresh air to listen to an album that’s this personal and crafted with essentially no compromise. It’s hard to tack down what exactly makes blightflower feel so fresh, despite borrowing a fair deal from a lot of well established areas from a stylistic standpoint, but it manages to breathe with new life among its peers. It feels like it’s not afraid to be in touch with its roots while aiming for the stars, taking cues from classics while approaching structures and moods with a modern and intimate mindset.
It also helps that tonally it’s extremely rich and it expands without as much as a second thought whenever it needs to get something across. The ball is also always rolling one way or another, rhythmically or melodically, never leaving any unused space with respect to dynamics – things can and will be soft and sparse when needed, as they will hit like a sledgehammer in flames when that’s being called upon. It shows a great deal of self control to balance so many details while also not being overly indulgent towards any one area. Though, it’s not just a feat of restraint, but one of courage, creativity, determination, and sheer will which will yield such things.
In Spite of Me emerges from the savage wilderness of human suffering, where the soul’s sinews are torn by generational curses and the gnashing teeth of addiction, with a scintillating beacon titled, almost oxymoronically, blightflower. It comes together as a collection of tunes drenched in unyielding ferocity and defiant hope, wrestling with the primal forces of guilt, shame, and corrupted faith, forging a path from decay to redemption. With the raw intensity of a mythical odyssey reimagined for our fractured modern age, it speaks to those who’ve staggered under the weight of grief, yet dare to dream of rebirth amidst the wreckage. From the confessional abyss of “If Grace Still Speaks” to the oceanic salvation of “Ember Tide”, blightflower is no mere music – it’s a cathartic war cry, a testament to resilience that blooms where despair once reigned, demanding to be felt with every fiber of your being.
