Biohazard
Divided We Fall
This is Biohazard’s first album in 12 years, which is probably enough justification to reasonably call it a ‘comeback’. More to that point, it’s the return of the classic Biohazard lineup that hasn’t been seen on a full-length since 1994’s State Of The World Address. Often, that tends to imply something with greater purpose than veterans pumping out another legacy-prolonger. For Biohazard more than most, they have the prestige of being among the first to fuse hardcore and hip-hop as a starting block, and a title evocative of such solidarity as Divided We Fall suggests that they know there’s still gold in those glory days. For what some could realistically classify among the most influential and important hardcore bands of all time, it’s a noble stance.
And then you actually listen to the album and think any huge expectations might be too generous. Maybe not to Biohazard themselves, though. That’s one thing you can’t fault Divided We Fall for—its passion and purpose is exhibited to the fullest. Get past the opener Fuck The System and how its political statements are kept vague enough to apply to literally anyone or anything, and you’ll find an album tackling self-actualisation and pushing through mental fogs and dark times with enough gumption to avoid sounding remotely pat. With Evan Seinfeld being the founder of the men’s mental health platform Mantorship, there’s added application to songs like Tear Down The Walls and I Will Overcome to give them more tangible impact than straight lyricism might otherwise convey. And with both Seinfeld and Billy Graziadei still packing strong, gruff belows in the mid-to-late-50s, you can see from a creator’s perspective how all of this seems like a true rejuvenation.
To Biohazard’s credit, too, some other hardcore revivals in this vein that have been much less competent. Even on its own, Divided We Fall is a perfectly solid, classically-styled throwdown, just like many other such revivals. There’s not quite any additional spice, though; nine times out of ten, you’ll be listening to this because it’s Classic Recipe Biohazard instead of for anything it, specifically, brings. It’s old-style hardcore, meaning there are strict limitations on what to expect. Furthermore, when they do lean deeper into the Biohazard-ness of it all, you get something like S.I.T.F.O.A., with the world’s most basic rap flow that both alludes to their place at the genesis of rapcore, and infers that they never moved past it. There’s also a number of tracks with an added coda locked onto the end, after what feels like the natural endpoint, and it leaves Divided We Fall a little jerky and out-of-pace at times.
Still, the main complaints are nitpicks, for the most part. The existing Biohazard faithful and hardcore lovers will, no doubt, be delighted at what’s effectively another helping of familiar, comforting slammage. It is impressive that the old lineup is so in sync after this long, and if you want to isolate an area that Divided We Fall really lives up to its legacy, it’s there. The music itself is fine, but a fiery, switched-on Biohazard rapidly approaching their 40th year is what carries the most worth. Seeing that hardcore’s dinosaurs still have some bite left in ‘em is always good, no matter what.
For fans of: Sick Of It All, Body Count, Madball
‘Divided We Fall’ by Biohazard is released on 17th October on BLKIIBLK Records.
coldrain
OPTIMIZE
It’s a good name for a coldrain EP, OPTIMIZE, because it lays out not just its own M.O., but that of its creators since the start. They’ve always been one of the more westernised of Japan’s rock exports, so why not streamline that even further to a lean, efficient five tracks? Better yet, why not pull a double-hander and prove, despite seven albums to limited crossover in the desired, English-speaking market, they’re yet to be dulled down?
Considering how coldrain sway in style, it’s quite impressive how much crisp they can still be. Many of their cues are on loan from the post-hardcore of a decade-plus ago, yet haven’t been so ravaged by time that they’re struggling to breathe. The injection of whizzing J-rock helps immeasurably, whether in a persistent synth tone like on the title track, ratcheted-up drumming on CHASING SHADOWS, or even a finely-tuned little solo to round out INCOMPLETE. Crucially—especially for as pop-leaning in stature as coldrain’s post-hardcore and metalcore can be—there’s never the sense of an inflexible gating holding things back. The adventurous spirit of Japanese rock and metal remains, only made more condensed and digestible, and fronted by Masato Hayakawa who wouldn’t have seemed out of place at all rubbing shoulders with all your Fuenteses and Quinns in 2013.
Thus, alongside the J-metalcore standard of some rather humdrum lyrics and themes, it’s little surprise that OPTIMIZE is more style than substance. The good news is how they’re sold with a surprising level of conviction; a weaker band (see, for example, ONE OK ROCK not that long ago) would dogwalk through these just to reach the check at the end. Even so, the pungent stench of ‘phones bad’ is too persistent to shake off of DIGITOLL with a mild cyberpunk reframing, and FREE FALL isa patchwork of ‘stand for something’, ‘rise up’ lines with—big shock!—a lack of any specificity to speak of. And yet, as screams come when needed rather than ordained by rubric and there’s a pleasantly weighty sound at play, coldrain are working with a purpose that others certainly can’t relate to.
Ultimately, OPTIMIZE comes across as coldrain’s newest attempt at a jumping-on point. The notion of seven prior albums can seem daunting, but here’s a good, low-commitment way to get onboard and sample what this band have often done well. At the expense of anything new or insane, coldrain are solidifying a legacy of strong, no-nonsense post-hardcore with self-evident enthusiasm. It really is exactly what it says on the tin—it’s coldrain, but optimised.
For fans of: Normandie, Hands Like Houses, Sleeping With Sirens
‘OPTIMIZE’ by coldrain is released on 24th October on Century Media Records.
SPACED
No Escape
In 2026, SPACED will be to hardcore what Scowl were this year. You know it when you see it, especially when an olive branch is extended down to the DIY spaces from somewhere higher, and the climb upwards begins in earnest. For SPACED, signing to Pure Noise feels like a vital step, not in the least because they’re one of those bands whose ricocheting buzz in hardcore spaces could most use a bigger, freer platform. It’s never hurt other bands with a penchant for melody and an alternative-skewing sound, has it?
In other words, Scowl might be the preceding link in the chain, but keep following it and you should get to Turnstile before long. Yep, it’s another case of this—the band who, every other day, take it upon themselves to remove a couple more bricks from hardcore’s normie-outlawing wall, are the blueprint. As much as SPACED have sold a psychedelic angle to their work, that’s never been all that apparent; on No Escape especially, this is the stuff designed to get them big. Encouragingly, there’s just as little dissuasion of hardcore spirit, too. That classically brawny guitar has long been a great difference-splitter between alt-rock and hardcore, and SPACED continue to leverage that to wonderful effect. The sound of this EP is really strong, fixed with cutting grooves on How Did It Come To This and Pressure that are simply second nature.
Having said that, it’d be nice to get some more of a wow-factor showing up. Like with many of their contemporaries, brevity is a key piece of SPACED’s arsenal, and not always conducive tremendous, inspired creativity. The closest they come is in the vocal mix, where Lexi Reyngoudt finds herself further back to bark more reverberantly. It’s not an incredible feat (nor does acknowledging its novelty make it less of a toss-up between working and sounding underpowered), but there’s something to it, all the same. It plays into the tone that No Escape looks to cultivate—a little tough, a little mean, but bracing and packing a punch. The overt anger of the closer Dog Bite ties together most successfully, as quicker tempos and some classic-rock guitar-flexery give the most back to SPACED’s rock-tumbler approach to punk and hardcore.
Most importantly of all, the mission-critical coolness needed to reach higher altitudes is here, without a doubt. It’s another ‘you know it when you see it’, not mutually exclusive from crossover potential, but still prevalent on its own. Whatever SPACED decide to do with their upcoming year, it’ll be imperative that they remain tapped into that coolness, which hardly seems like a tall order when this incredibly brief EP oozes with it. On its own, it’s alright; with the added gold dust that the Scowls and Turnstiles of the world have boosted their profile off, the potential starts to skyrocket. (Also, that Gears Of War Deathlok thing on the artwork? Completely sick.)
For fans of: Turnstile, Jivebomb, Buggin
‘No Escape’ by SPACED is released on 17th October on Pure Noise Records.
Words by Luke Nuttall
