Review: Spiritbox – Tsunami Sea
“Tsunami Sea” makes you want to punch a wall and hug it at the same time. Spiritbox’s sophomore full-length is a record that feels hyper-aware of its own gravity, constantly testing how far it can stretch its sound without snapping under expectation. Coming off the cultural and commercial weight of “Eternal Blue”, this album sounds like a band trying to prove they are not a moment, while also wrestling with the pressure of being one.
At its core, “Tsunami Sea” is about emotional overload. The title songunderlines it with imagery of drowning, isolation, and self-erasure, delivered with a performance that swings effortlessly between fragility and fury. Courtney LaPlante (ex-Iwrestledabearonce)remains the band’s greatest weapon, her vocals acting as both narrator and emotional barometer. When she leans into melody, the songs feel intimate and human; when she screams, it feels less like aggression and more like catharsis tearing its way out.
Musically, Spiritbox continue to blur the lines between metalcore, djent, alternative metal, and electronic experimentation. Songs like “Soft Spine” and “No Loss, No Love” hit with blunt-force heaviness, built on low-tuned riffs and mechanical rhythms that feel designed to cave in sternums. Elsewhere, the band flirts with atmosphere and texture, layering synths and ambient passages that create a sense of scale and unease. These moments give the album its cinematic quality, even if they sometimes come at the expense of momentum.
The production is both a strength and a flaw. Everything sounds massive, polished, and meticulously arranged, but that same density can feel suffocating. Some riffs blur together, and some parts struggle to distinguish themselves beyond mood and tone. There are moments where the mix feels more concerned with impact than clarity, and while that works emotionally, it can leave individual ideas underdeveloped.
The album’s pacing is another double-edged sword. “Tsunami Sea” thrives on contrast, but the constant oscillation between crushing heaviness and subdued introspection occasionally disrupts its flow. Songs like “Perfect Soul” and “Deep End” are undeniably well-written, yet they soften the album’s bite just as it starts to feel dangerous. It’s not that these songs are weak, but that their placement diffuses tension rather than sharpening it.
Still, what makes “Tsunami Sea” compelling is its sincerity. Even when Spiritbox stumble, they never sound disingenuous or calculated. This is a band grappling with identity, success, and the pressure that comes with it in real time, and that struggle bleeds into every note. It may not be as immediate or cohesive as their 2017 debut, but it’s more ambitious, more personal, and more revealing.
“Tsunami Sea” is not a flawless album, but it doesn’t need to be. Its highs are powerful enough to outweigh its missteps, and its willingness to take risks keeps it engaging from start to finish.
