Review: Still In Love – Recovery Language
Still In Love is the new playground of some of the UK’s most battle-hardened hardcore veterans (with ties to Dead Swans, Brutality Will Prevail, BMTH, among others). There’s no fat on their latest offering with just eight tracks and 23 minutes of metallic hardcore. The dudes know how to make it count. This is a record that feels both nostalgic and urgent, a love letter to the UKHC scene’s golden era without ever sounding like a tribute act. The production is modern and meaty, giving the riffs enough weight to crush while keeping the mix tight enough to let the emotion cut through.
From the opening blast of “Tell The Truth,” the album establishes its furious and raw atmosphere. The songs rushes through in under two minutes, a burst of thrash-inflected hardcore that sets the pace for what follows. “Nervous Impulse” doubles down on the intensity, with a sense of controlled chaos; much like a band pushing right up to the edge of collapse without ever losing their footing.
The standout moment comes with “Preserve & Cherish,” featuring Sam Carter of Architects. The guest vocals add another layer to the album’s central theme of generational trauma and emotional catharsis. The song balances melody and aggression in a way that recalls Dead Swans at their most anthemic, but with a modern edge that keeps it from sounding dated. It’s the kind of song that demands to be shouted along to in a packed venue for a moment of collective release.
“Inherit” offers lyrics are direct without being preachy, and a straightforward, no-frills approach. The riffs are heavy but never gratuitous, while the rhythm section pounding with a physicality that feels almost confrontational. The album’s closing pair of songs, “You Have To Let It Go” and “Pillar Of Strength,” stretch out the runtime just enough to give the record a sense of closure without overstaying its welcome. The former features Andrew Fisher of Bury Tomorrow and leans into a more melodic, post-hardcore territory, while the latter is a five-minute epic that builds from a quiet intro into a cathartic, almost anthemic finale. It’s a fitting end to a record, on point.
“Recovery Language” is a bruta and beautiful record, just like a hardcore record has to be. It’s the kind of album that reminds you why hardcore matters, as a space for processing pain and pushing forward even when the weight feels unbearable.