Style: Sludge Metal, Post-Metal (Harsh Vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Cult of Luna, EyeHateGod, Acid Bath, Khemmis, Dvne, Mastodon, Inter Arma
Country: United States, AR
Release date: 14 March 2025
Awakening from the Arkansas underground in 1996, Rwake are ancient, nearly thirty years into their journey at the time of this review, with a respectable body of work behind them. Rooted in sludge metal tradition, their sound fuses scathing hardcore vocals, mid-paced melodicism, doomy expanses, and tinges of death metal reminiscent of Acid Bath—a volatile mix that gives rise to brooding, multi-dimensional compositions. After a string of releases beginning with Absence Due to Projection in 1998, the band truly made waves upon signing with Relapse Records for 2007’s Voices of Omens, their most aggressive album to date. That release earned them a tour across the eastern U.S. and a spot at the Texas metal festival Emissions from the Monolith, lifting them from obscurity into the spotlight of the American underground. They followed it with Rest, after which the band stepped away, as personal lives took precedence. Over a decade later, Rwake finally reemerge with their long-awaited return: The Return of Magik.
Such a long wait naturally invites skepticism about the band’s current inspiration and creative fire. In the face of this anticipation, Rwake offer a lineup change involving Austin Sublett stepping in to replace longtime guitarist Kris Graves. With Sublett, the looming nods to traditional doom—shades of Black Sabbath and Mournful Congregation—have largely faded. In their place are more dynamic textures: mid-tempo rhythms, a gloomy but aggressive melodicism, and anthemic passages that at times recall the grandeur of Candlemass. Another notable shift lies in the vocal delivery. The Return of Magik trades out Rest’s hardcore punk snarls for a caustic palette of high-pitched screeches, broken only by measured eruptions of visceral, rebellious shouts.
The songcraft on The Return of Magik is monolithic and variegated in texture, with even its shortest tracks stretching just shy of the eight-minute mark. Structurally, the album splits into two modes. Three songs—”You Swore We’d Always Be Together”, “The Return of Magik”, and “With Stardust Flowers”—are more riff-driven and immediate. Following that are two sprawling epics: ”Distant Constellations and the Psychedelic Incarceration”, and “In After Reverse”. The epics struggle under their own weight, ambitious in scope but left wanting in their pacing, identity, and execution.
Within the style that Rwake indulge in, several key metrics define the greatness of a composition: balance, variety, pacing contrast, and an intuitive flow that ensures no passage overstays its welcome. “The Return of Magik” stands as the shining example of all these traits. It opens with tremolo-driven grooves, anthemic harmonies, and sharp melodic turns, before descending into a doomier section where bellowing punk vocals contrast tastefully with the caustic screams that came before. The song then circles back to a faster pace, closing with a final surge of urgency that ties the entire structure together. From the heterogeneous riffing to the overall balance each section brings, this track shows that Rwake are still as capable as they were the decade before.
The other two riff-driven tracks fall short of the excellence achieved by “The Return of Magik.” In “You Swore We’d Always Be Together,” tonal variety is present, shifting from dark dissonance to Mastodon-esque melodicism, but the pacing remains static, lacking the tempo changes necessary to create a structured sense of evolution. “With Stardust Flowers” carries a cry for greater ambition: the same ingredients that make the album’s title track so compelling are present, but the track ends too abruptly, feeling rushed and incomplete. Both songs are solid in isolation, but with greater dimensionality and structural expansion, they could have reached something far more impactful.
In the final stretch of the album, Rwake make bold leaps which stumble into drawn out messes. Here, the problem lies in failed experimentation. “Distant Constellations and the Psychedelic Incarceration” is an ambitious attempt at mystic intrigue that falls flat. Built around a spoken-word section that runs four minutes too long, what might have been an occultish—if vaguely hippie-flavored—atmosphere devolves into a long-winded rant that renders the rest of the track irrelevant. “In After Reverse” fails to a slightly lesser degree, pairing active riffing with a sluggish interlude. But that interlude, composed of whispered vocals and minimal ambient drones, feels bare and underdeveloped—an attempt at the quiet tension of a forest lurking with something unnamed instead evokes awkward emptiness. Both tracks cry out for stronger execution and a more refined approach to atmosphere and pacing.
Despite its fractured quality, The Return of Magik is a commendable return after more than a decade of silence. It is unclear if Rwake will release more albums in the future—but if so, then this album should serve as a moment of introspection. Let go of the ambitions of narrative-driven songs, tighten the standards for pacing and contrast, and lean more heavily into the band’s greatest strength: the volatile duality between harsh screams and hardcore snarls. There’s still power in Rwake’s sound, but it demands a clearer frame to truly shine.
Recommended tracks: “The Return of Magik”
You may also like: Mizmor, 16, Fange, Sunrot, Decline of the I
Final verdict: 6/10
Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | Instagram | Metal-Archives
Label: Relapse – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website
Rwake is:
– Chris Terry (vocals)
– Brittany Fugate (vocals)
– Jeff Morgan (drums, acoustic guitar, 12-string bass)
– Reid Raley (bass)
– Austin Sublett (guitar)
– John Judkins (guitar)
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