Review: Lacabra – Lacabra

Lacabra’s self-titled debut is the kind of album that arrives with the weight of expectation, not just because it’s the first full-length from a band whose members have already cut their teeth in the underground, but because it promises to distill a decade’s worth of extreme metal evolution into something both brutal and accessible. Emerging from Seattle’s strong metal scene, Lacabra have crafted an album that’s as ambitious as it is uneven, yet often soars on the strength of its riffs and ambition, but occasionally stumbles under the weight of its own eclecticism.

From the opening salvo of “Blood Of The Goat 1876,” it’s clear that Lacabra aren’t here to play it safe. The band’s blend of blackened death metal, groove, and melodic death metal is a heady concoction, one that draws as much from the technical precision of 90s Swedish death metal as it does from the raw, chaotic energy of the Pacific Northwest’s extreme metal scene. “Human Quilt” and “Nothing” showcase the band’s ability to weave intricate guitar work with guttural vocals, creating a sound that’s both dense and dynamic. The production, mastered by Andy LaRocque, ensures that every tremolo-picked riff and blast beat hits with clarity and force, while the sinister artwork sets the tone for an album that’s as visually striking as it is sonically punishing.

Yet, for all its strengths, Lacabra’s debut isn’t without its flaws. The album’s second half loses some of the focus and momentum that defines its earlier tracks. Songs like “Fractured,” while technically impressive, can feel a bit too busy, as if the band is trying to cram every idea they’ve ever had into a single record. The shift in tone from the relentless aggression of the first few tracks to the more experimental, almost progressive detours later on can be jarring, and not always in a good way. It’s the kind of album that rewards repeated listens, but also one that might leave some listeners wishing for a bit more editorial restraint.

Still, there’s no denying the talent on display here. The twin-guitar attack is a constant highlight, their solos spiraling out in ways that recall both the melodic sensibilities of Amorphis and the raw fury of Blood Incantation. The rumming is equally impressive, providing a solid foundation that allows the rest of the band to explore the outer limits of their sound. And while the album’s latter half may not be as immediately gripping as its opening, there are still plenty of moments, like the sheer brutality of “Enemy”, that prove Lacabra are a band with a vision.

In the end, Lacabra’s self-titled debut is a promising, if imperfect, statement of intent. It’s the work of a band that’s clearly not content to simply rehash the past, but is still figuring out how to balance their myriad influences into something truly cohesive. For fans of extreme metal looking for something that’s both familiar and fresh, it’s well worth the time. But it’s also the kind of album that leaves you wondering what they’ll do next—hopefully with a bit more focus and a clearer sense of direction.