ALBUM REVIEW: Mallavora – ‘What If Better Never Comes?’

Well, someone wants a Spiritbox support slot!

That’s likely always been on the bucket list somewhere for Mallavora; it’s just getting clearer with each new step taken. And for a band that’s still ostensibly brand new, they’ve taken a lot of steps. What other rising metal band has had their vocalist called up to provide ‘banshee-like wails’ on The Traitors? The swelling live reputation and profile are all well and good, but crossing the threshold into BBC light entertainment just isn’t the done thing for Church Road signees. Right now, Mallavora might genuinely be one of its flagship acts, in their ability to expand into a wider landscape than the niches their label typically serves.

Even if this debut album is coming sooner than expected, it doesn’t feel premature. That would imply Mallavora aren’t ready for this, which demonstrably isn’t the case. You won’t find many ‘new’ metal bands in as finished a state as this on their first proper go-around. Obviously that’s impressive, and the nine-minute closer would infer that Mallavora really are looking to go the distance already.

In fact, you’ll note that What If Better Never Comes? appears to sidestep most early-release foibles rather deftly. Yes, it can be a little samey, but in this style of alt-metal and tech-metal, but that’s a trap that veterans still fall into, let alone debutants. At the same time, that is a barrier to true excellence, no less because you’d like the songs to leap out more than they do. This is a pretty chunky listen, and if you’re expecting that to comprise of exclusively bangers, you’re out of luck. What If Better Never Comes? works better as a showcase of Mallavora’s abilities than what’s assembled from them.

When viewed as that, however, that’s when things get interesting. For one, the gulf between this and 2024’s Echoes EP starts off wide and only gets more chasmal as you go along. The first song proper is Smile, in which blood-soaked screams and guitars akin to lead weights already blow a considerably bigger hole than anything Mallavora have put to wax before. As the album progresses, so does that style—heavy and solid, but also free to open up into colossal melody. So much so, in fact, that Hopeless isn’t too far removed from a de-gothed Evanescence.

Jess Douek is the name to keep in mind for that, though it’s doubtful that you’ll be able to forget it before long. She’s got a tremendous voice that fully owns its role, where even if you aren’t a BBC producer looking for ambient sound for your reality show, the potential to dazzle is through the roof. She’s also the unquestionable heart of Mallavora, and the source of where they feel the most distinct. Songs like Lilith and Walking The Edge Of The Knife feature Middle Eastern-inspired patterns inspired by Douek’s heritage, injecting the sort of cultural enrichment that alt-metal is seldom privy to. Mallavora aren’t just another roboticised hunk of tumbling riffs; there’s actually warmth and atmosphere here, for the most part down to Douek.

And would you believe there’s also something of lyrical import to What If Better Never Comes?? It’s a wild thought to have about an album like this, but indeed, it’s here! Not to put too fine a point on that one, though; of all the areas in which Mallavora punch above their weight class, there’s still a bit to be desired with this one. The concept of ‘sicknesses’—whether that’s physical, mental or societal—is the sort of topic beloved by bands like this who want to seem enlightened. Not to say that’s Mallavora, but there are some lyrical sets that tilt into the routine mentioned earlier. That said, this isn’t exclusively that. For what’s effectively an interlude, Break is Douek’s stark resignation to a world that simply has no care for disabilities, the shattered mirror to Smile’s rage earlier on. Host, meanwhile, takes the dehumanising language used to talk about immigrants and zero in on its toxicity and bile.

Altogether, it makes for a debut full-length that’s almost uncommonly strong. Even if Mallavora are yet to fully blow the doors off across the board, they’re packing more than enough heat and skill to suggest the wait won’t be too long at all. And for a band who were barely a blip on the radar just a couple of years ago, that’s kind of a big deal. The Spiritbox allusion earlier isn’t merely an aesthetic likeness; Mallavora could have just as much of a chance to grab their scene by the throat in the same way. In due time, this could be something truly, truly special.

For fans of: Spiritbox, Knife Bride, Silent Planet

‘What If Better Never Comes?’ by Mallavora is released on 27th March on Church Road Records.

Words by Luke Nuttall