Review: Cabal – Everything Rots

Cabal’s “Everything Rots” is invites the listener into a world where the air is thick with rust, decay, and the unmistakable stench of something long dead. This is Danish deathcore at its most unapologetic, a record that revels in its own filth, not as a gimmick, but as a philosophy. From the opening notes of “Become Nothing,” it’s clear that Cabal aren’t here to play nice. The riffs are jagged and relentless, the drums pummel with the precision of a machine designed for destruction, and the vocals scrape against your skull like a blade dragged across bone, no matter if guttural growls or blackened snarls.

What sets “Everything Rots” apart from the endless sea of deathcore records is Cabal’s refusal to rely on the same tired formulas. The album’s production is a masterclass in balance: it’s raw enough to feel dangerous, but polished enough to ensure every element cuts through with devastating clarity. The band’s use of electronics isn’t just window dressing; it’s woven into the fabric of the music, adding a layer of industrial grime that elevates songs like “Hell Hounds” and “Still Cursed” beyond mere mosh fodder. The latter, featuring Aaron Matts of TEN56, is a standout: a song that is crushing and catchy and with an excellent breakdown. Cabal’s ability to blend blackened melodies with deathcore’s signature brutality is what makes “Everything Rots” so compelling.

Yet, for all its strengths, “Everything Rots” isn’t without its stumbles. The album’s pacing isuneven at times, with some songs bleeding together in a way that blurs their individual identities. It’s a minor gripe, but one that keeps “Everything Rots” from reaching the transcendent heights of the very best in the genre. There are moments where the band’s reliance on tried-and-true deathcore tropes (the chugs, the breakdowns, the syncopated rhythms) threatens to pull the album into the realm of the predictable. But just when you think you’ve got Cabal figured out, they throw a curveball, like the unexpected electronic interludes or haunting, almost melodic passages.

What ultimately saves “Everything Rots” from being just another deathcore record is its sheer conviction. Cabal don’t just play this music; they inhabit it. There’s a palpable sense of anger and despair running through every track, a feeling that this isn’t just an album, but a manifesto – a middle finger raised to a world that’s already crumbling.

In the end, “Everything Rots” is an album that demands to be played loud, preferably in a room where the walls can shake and the air can thicken with the weight of its sound. It’s not perfect, but when Cabal hit their stride, they do so with a force that’s impossible to ignore. This is deathcore for those who want their music to feel like a punch to the gut, a record that doesn’t just sound heavy, but feels heavy, like the weight of the world pressing down on your chest.