Style: Industrial metal, progressive metal, cabaret (Mixed vocals, mostly clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Diablo Swing Orchestra, Rammstein
Country: Russia
Release date: 5 March 2026

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Salut mon chat noir! Welcome to a cabaret you’ve never witnessed. See there? The crowd—enshrouded in dim, scarlet light—anxiously awaits a maniacal aura to erupt from the stage. But who will answer the call and cleverly deliver us from the evils of quotidien life: working, studying, reading the Progressive Subway, and worse… writing for it? Tardigrade Inferno, Saint Petersburg’s native microorganismic quartet of spectres, will be those heroes, returning in full water bear glory with their latest LP Hush.

Hush’s announcement was brief, leaving much to the imagination and promising a “spicy taste of authentic [human] experience,” with the “oil painted album artwork”¹ notably casting aside the band’s signature tardigrade mascot. For a band that has arguably built their brand off a cover of “We Are Number One” from the 00s Icelandic children’s TV show Lazy Town—which was dated even for the time²—a mature rebrand under “dark ironic lyricism” and, presumably, diversified song structures could turn the page to a fresh, yet familiar, chapter in zebra stripe leggings and Beetlejuice hair endeavours.

Evidently, Tardigrade Inferno’s trademark theatrics dominate the soundscape somewhat superficially throughout Hush’s runtime, often leaning on a whimsical range of instrumental inflections over standard fare kick-snare 4/4 beats. Theremins layer in spooky, Frankenstein vibes to open the album (“The Final Show”) and a waggishly evil kazoo leading Russian fable creatures through your ear canal (“Deadly Fairytales”). Unfortunately—or fortunately depending on your personal taste—these elements swiftly come and go, as if patched on, rather than playing a central role within the song structures themselves. Conversely, Tardigrade Inferno’s subtle use of keyboards to beef up hooks (“Dead Fish Smile”), carried by Darya Rorria’s crooning contralto or lift the character of crunchy guitar riffs (“Hush”), demonstrates suave production acumen. On occasion, they successfully weave samples into wonky compositions: in “Subatomic Heist”, Little Shop of Horrors-esque string orchestration gradually raises the BPM into a rumpus 60s surf rock dancehall with mad scientists and shrink ray lyrics feeling right at home. This show’s ringmaster is not short of glimmering diamonds to ease our existential pain; however, the somber revelation that guitar-keyboard interplay and machine riffing found on “Hush” and “Hide’n’Seek” suspiciously mimics Rammstein’s Mutter puts a damper on the fun.

Despite the consistent melodramatic cacophony sandwiched between a standard verse-chorus chrysalis, Tardigrade Inferno intermittently struts into the crowd to tease, if you will, robust song structures powered by historical cabaret characteristics. Cast your magnifying glass over “I.C.D.”, but ignore the grating offtune synth intro: a spoken word emcee ushers you into a macabre scene, returning each verse to progressively more dense and intense instrumentation matching a rising sense of lyrical dread leading to the climax: “I choose death”. To boot, unexpectedly tasteful Latin strumming enters stage right, livening up our hero’s otherwise depressing epilogue. The closing track “I Am Eternal” equally leans into an almost-spoken, yet swooning, vocal style to accentuate the impact of our emcee’s acceptance of death. Modulated synthesizers facilitate space and texture across the extended runtime, immersing the listener organically into the grand finale. “I.C.D.” and “I Am Eternal” deserve an enthusiastic ovation; rather than applying the core tenets of cabaret—narration, intimacy, and variety—as aesthetic bandages over worn out industrial metal, the band heeds them as foundational rocks which ground the composition.

The band hums along to the final note and prepares for a bow; however, before doing so, there’s something we need to address. If you listen closely, the dancers aren’t tap tap tapping away on stage, and props aren’t being fumbled in suggestively satirical manners. Which makes sense, right—this is a music album, it’s just going to be sound. As obvious as that is, an audio-only medium for cabaret is limiting, as songs that lean on basic lyrics might have been written with live gimmicks in mind to poke fun at current events or pop culture. Tracks which fall flat for me, like the carnivorous “Goor”, could believably morph into a show-stopper with cunning werewolf imagery and relevant political commentary. Otherwise, who is coming to “bind” me and “eat [me] fresh”? Certainly not the Gojira whammy pedal inflection they sneak into the riff. I can’t entirely hold this against the band, as by all accounts they live and breathe the concert experience; yet, the absence of added context in a style reliant upon audience interaction and visual irony robs the listener of connecting with the artist’s vision.

Another show, another curtain call. Prior to this outing, Tardigrade Inferno had tethered their sonic identity to a circus aesthetic macrocosm to a fault, leaving minimal room to convincingly evolve into a tour de force. Whilst Hush leaves much to be desired in the first half, relying on straightforward song formulation with heavy-handed kazoos and synthesizers, the album descends into a charming bonanza worthy of landing on Halloween party playlists. Disregarding the tangible zany overtones, the few stand out tracks’ compositions capture the campy soul intrinsic to cabaret performances short of performing in your own home and push our water bear fanatical band towards more focused and lavish storytelling in future releases.

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Recommended Tracks: “I.C.D.”, “Subatomic Heist”, “I Am Eternal”
You may also like: Raven Black, Woodscream
Final verdict: 5.5/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram

Label: Independent

Tardigrade Inferno is:
– Darya Rorria (vocals)
– Alexander Pavlovich (guitars)
– Maxim Belekhov (bass)
– Andrew Drew (drums)

1. It seems there may be some AI shenanigans going on here. ↩︎
2. If you put a gun to my head demanding a video encapsulating 2016 meme culture, then without a doubt I’d show you this surprisingly satisfying rendition of “We Are Number One” in 13 metal “styles”. Once the calendar hit 2017, Robbie Rotten’s antics started to lose their luster. ↩︎