Missed Album Review: Void Of Sleep – The Abyss into which We All Have to Stare

Published by Attila on

Artwork by: Enrico Minguzzi

Style: post-metal, sludge metal, doom metal (mixed vocals, mostly clean)
Recommended for fans of: The Ocean, DVNE, Cult of Luna
Country: Italy
Release date: 17 October 2025


By the time one hits their mid-thirties, they’ve probably experienced the feeling of burnout. It can stem from many reasons—a job, a relationship, or any of the escalating crises that plague our time. A mixture of small anxieties and annoyances that never really get resolved gradually wears you down to the point where you feel constantly on edge yet completely desensitized. Whatever you do seems pointless as you just go through the motions, waiting for anything to finally break the tension… Listening to post-metal often reminds me of that feeling. Good post-metal uses this to build up to big, cathartic moments. Really good post-metal subverts the constant ebb-n-flow of tension and release for even greater effect. Aaand there are the artsy ones that deny resolution to make a point.

According to their bio, Void of Sleep deal in sludgy stoner-doom. This time, they ditched the stoner part and went full-on post-metal instead. Listening to The Abyss into Which We All Have to Stare complements my somber mood perfectly, watching the wind hurl trash around the feet of uncaring people as they hurry along like mindless drones under leafless trees that like bony fingers point accusingly at the iron sky that hasn’t been pierced by a single ray of sunshine for weeks, while avoiding my screen with the overdue paper that continuously refuses to finish itself. Looking at the title, that’s probably what Void of Sleep were going for.

They nailed it, too. The atmosphere is by far the strongest aspect of The Abyss into Which We All Have to Stare: it’s heavy, murky, oppressive, foreboding, desolate, and hopeless, capturing the feeling of aimlessly shoveling coal, despite knowing that the train is heading for a cliff. The instrumental performances are strong yet understated; don’t be fooled, though, as the music still features all the odd rhythms, alternating meters, syncopations, and complex arrangements you’d expect from a prog band— sans the showing off. The entire composition is functional, all in the service of the feel, but maybe just one solo somewhere would have been welcome. Kudos to the drummer are in order, however, as he does most of the heavy lifting, providing the majority of tension and excitement. There’s plenty of tribal drumming, tasty fills, or those little flourishes on the cymbals, which I absolutely adore. The vocals are kind of a mixed bag, though, coming across as try-hard and edgy. The vocalist conveys angst confidently but fails to express the anxiety, desperation, disillusionment, and resignation that the instrumentals capture so well.

As one might expect from the cover art, there’s a bit of distance and muddiness to the mix. This sonic murkiness elevates the atmosphere but makes all the effects and layers blend in with the guitars too much—at least you can hear the bass’s warm, meaty tone. I’d definitely recommend a decent pair of headphones, as all the details and textures only opened up to me after putting on a pair; my speakers usually handle dense music decently enough, but they completely failed me on this one.

The songwriting has a clear sense of direction—even if most of the songs, in typical post-metal fashion, take their sweet time getting there. Individual sections are well-composed with smooth transitions, but they often feel predictable and a tad too familiar. Many high-profile bands came to mind on various occasions; the Tool-like segment during the first half of “From an Unborn Mother”, for example, is borderline plagiarism. Luckily, the song is saved by the brass sections during the following build-up, which is one of the most inspired moments of The Abyss into Which We All Have to Stare. Interesting ideas appear throughout; some work better, others less so. I’m neutral about the ambient first song; I like the massive breakdown at the end of “Omens from Nothingness”; and I hate the distorted outro of “Of a Demon in My View”. Moreover, two spoken word segments on this record are one too many.

The Abyss into Which We All Have to Stare is definitely front-heavy, kicking off with the more exciting songs (“Omens from Nothingness”, “Misfortune Teller”) and getting more tiresome as it progresses. A pattern of lengthy build-ups that lead to no real catharsis emerges over the latter tracks. All that incredible tension never really explodes, and my excitement slowly turns into frustration. As the last song meanders towards the finish line, the performances get simpler, and I find myself taking peeks at the timer. When the record finally ends, it kinda just burns out… and me along with it. If that was an artistic choice,1 it’s a clever one, but it doesn’t help the overall experience.

Void of Sleep implemented their artistic vision effectively, crafting a mostly enjoyable album that can hit you hard if you’re in the proper mood. Fans of the desolate soundscape of post-/sludge metal or those wanting to experience the existential dread and mundane nihilism of modern society condensed to sonic form should definitely check out The Abyss into Which We All Have to Stare. However, I’ve been staring into this abyss for a while now, and it hasn’t stared back into me. The lack of truly cathartic moments might be conceptual, but goddammit, I ate my meat, and I want my pudding. That, coupled with some unoriginal or tedious segments and a few questionable stylistic choices, curbs my enthusiasm. A little more unpredictability and tighter editing could go a long way to reverse that.


Recommended tracks: Omens from Nothingness, From an Unborn Mother, Phantoms of Nihil
You may also like: Gigafauna, Perihelion, King Buffalo
Final verdict: 6/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram

Label: Aural Music

Void of sleep is:
– Andrea Burdisso (vocals, guitars)
– Marco Galeotti (guitars, backing vocals)
– Andrea Allodoli (drums)
– Andrea Burgio (bass)
– Mohammed Kamel (keyboards)

  1. The Ocean explored a similar concept on Holocene, but I think they executed it better. ↩︎

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