If Loathe did not exist, the frothing rock press would need to invent them. Look at the facts: they come from Liverpool; they have a racially diverse set of members; Radiohead, Deftones and Meshuggah are the standards to which they aspire to be measured; and they’re resistant to the anti-modern outlook of metal yet happy to be part of it. Their sophomore album from five years ago won plaudits from Periphery through to modern bands like Heriot, Invent Animate and Sleep Token, with the latter three acknowledging them as an influence. It’s not clear why it took six years to follow up 2020’s I Let It in and It Took Everything, but the weight of expectations is scary for them and for their fanbase. Somehow, they act like these things do not matter. A Stranger to You is utterly unique.
Needle drop fuzz and glistening piano notes provide the background for the spoken-word rhymes of Bucki Sugar in opener, ‘Entrance’. The ambience is dream-like, the words just as blissful in their sound without even analysing the meaning of them. Is this Loathe’s Kid A statement? We’re one minute and forty-five seconds into song number two (see ‘Block of Flats’), and the daydreaming tones are still dominant. Then, they launch into the chaotic Glassjaw aggression before returning to the serene pop. You can hear their influence on Heriot in the dynamics and the juxtaposition between sedate and manic behaviour. There is nothing like this in modern rock music, and your fingers will do more than scratch your chin on repeat listens.
If there’s one criticism, it’s the raspy vocal aggression, which never sounds psychotic enough for the paradoxical nature of the music. Yet if there’s one thing that’ll blow you away, it’s the band’s ability to leave you excited by what might come next. There is a genuine coherence to the Loathe sound that sails between shoegazing rock and glitchy nu metalcore. It’ll draw inevitable comparisons to Deftones, but that is a lazy thing to do (Turnstile are a better reference point). No obvious structure appears in ‘Fortress Down’ on first spin. Successor song, ‘Gemini’, is easier to absorb as a monstrous slab of “djenting” metallic noise. You’ll need to try different headphones to work out if the bass or the two electric guitars provide the loudest part of the low-end. Not that they leave you with much time to ponder – this effort remixes itself and finds a new identity as a drop-tuned Skrillex-esque feast of dubstep trajectories. As a contrasting texture, ‘Harder to Pretend’ is where the band are at their most comfortable in a felicitous world of sunshine and sleep that can never escape the melancholy shadow of night. The ambient acid jazz of the quieter moments is a triumph of mood as much as imagination.
Perhaps the most admirable thing here for a group so in tune with music technology is how they place an emphasis on the album listening experience as a chronological event. There’s little material here for the Spotify playlist to hook in new listeners, yet the transition pieces featuring Florida rapper, Bucki Sugar, are essential to the arc of the record. Metal critics of Sleep Token would show more enthusiasm for the UK quartet if they let their impulses lead them into the noisy abyss of fury that Loathe unleash in ‘Revenant’. And yet the seamless gravitation towards the melodic protective blanket of ‘The Way It Breaks’ feels just right when your blood pressure surges too high. You realise at ‘Meet My Maker’ that Loathe have achieved their aim: to create a solipsistic alternate reality where boundaries and structures merge into one hazy pathway to joy. It’s redundant to give this a name like “alternative metalcore” when it has an unconscious definition of modern rock in its sights.
Listen how the haunting trip hop vibe of ‘Fangs’ co-exists in beautiful unease with a gnarly guitar distortion and an honest self-analysis (“Lately nothing matters too much to me”). Leaving an extra minute on record to work in the djent breakdown and then resurrect the composition as a divine keyboard immersion is unorthodox but welcome. Likewise, bringing in Brixton multi-instrumentalist, Jordan Rakei, to lend his expertise to the hummable vocal lines makes sense towards the end of this album. Your only reservation will be the length of the last quarter. It could end with ‘The Ladder’, but they choose to self-implode in a blaze of murderous rage in ‘Gifted Every Strength’ with all testing materials thrown in to see if the equation still works at this late stage – it does (just about). Indeed, the melancholy fairytale world for damaged adults remains intact with the closing title-track, which ends like Deftones in a sentimental pillow fight between cousins.
We say rock has nothing to offer these days, and that’s easy to believe. Maybe Loathe can challenge that assumption with their third LP.
Kirk Houghton
Verdict
Release Date: 17/07/2026
Record Label: Sharptone Records
Standout tracks: Fortress Down; Harder to Pretend; Fangs
Suggested Further Listening: Radiohead – Hail to the Thief (2003), Invent Animate – Heavener (2023), Grant the Sun – Voyage (2023)