Review by Dominik on June 7, 2025.

The British are a curious breed. This is, after all, the nation that gave us tea addiction, the Spice Girls, and black pudding—three separate but equally disturbing cries for help. This is the country that co-invented punk rock, gifted us the NWOBHM, but somehow manages to trip over its own boots when trying to adopt trends from abroad. They cling to their own traditions with stubborn pride—still driving on the wrong side of the road while the rest of the world moved right, both literally and musically. Unsurprisingly, then, the number of genuinely good UK-based bands that have properly buried themselves in black or thrash metal—neither of which originated on the island—is limited. That said, I still approach each new effort with a shred of hope, that maybe, just maybe, someone's going to break free of that pattern.

Welcome to the realm of Burial. Not newcomers by any stretch—they've been around since 2008—this UK horde comes equipped with a mission: eradicate Christianity with blast beats and blistering intent. That goal alone earns a few points for conviction. And unsurprisingly for a band that's had nearly two decades to hone their craft, they push most of the right buttons. The production is professional—arguably sometimes too much so, as the drums in particular feel so tight and polished they may have been handled by a robot with anxiety issues. Musically, the band handles both high speeds and mid-tempo stomping with ease, and they even inject a touch of punkish swagger into their delivery at times. So far, so grim, so good. But does that all add up to more than the sum of its parts? Unfortunately… not quite.

Here's the rub: variety didn't make it onto the guest list. Burial operates with a binary approach to songwriting. It's either fast or mid-tempo, and while individual songs switch between these gears, there's little deviation from the formula. The feeling is almost mechanical, like the tempo is being strictly enforced by a metronome under strict curfew orders. There are exceptions, of course (we'll get there), but the rule dominates. The vocals follow a similar path—aggressive, no doubt—but melodically and emotionally, they're as flatlined as a heretic at the Inquisition.

The album opens strong. The title track, "Rejoice In Sin", doesn't waste a second. It barrels in, fists swinging, and delivers an accessible slab of modern black metal. It's easily one of the standout songs. Yes, it still operates within the fast-or-mid framework, but here the band manages to inject enough dynamic contrast to keep it compelling. Even the vocals, despite their limited pitch range, feel more engaged and synchronized with the riffing. That momentum carries over into "Wretched Is This Life", another one for the win column. The bass gets some breathing room here, and its audibility actually drives the faster passages, which is refreshing. But two songs in, it becomes clear: there's a Burial formula, and the band sticks to it religiously. "Sadism For God" shifts the tempo and tone a bit—it's grooving, mid-paced, and almost cheerful in its simplicity. There's a faint whiff of black'n'roll and punk rock attitude, like early Bathory got drunk and wandered into a Discharge gig. But from here on out, déjà vu starts to set in hard. The novelty begins to wear thin. It starts to feel like the same riffs and rhythms are being recycled, just reshuffled like a morbid deck of cards.

Is there anything that truly breaks the mold? Yes. "A Fear More Grave" flirts with death metal growls, injecting a different texture, while "Putrid Grave" not only ramps up the speed but also includes moments of crawling slowdown. It's less restrained and more unhinged than its siblings, and that alone makes it memorable. The album closer follows a similar recipe—simple punk vibe riffs, tremolo-picked melodies, reminiscent of early Impaled Nazarene, with just enough personality to leave a faint impression. That the song titles rhymes with "black metal punk" may be purely by accident.

Still, it's hard to shake the feeling that by track four, you've heard everything Burial is going to throw at you. And four albums deep, that kind of predictability starts to feel like a stylistic cul-de-sac. In classic British fashion, the band has built a small, reliable universe—and now refuses to let in any outside pollution. Whether that leads them to greatness or gradual obscurity remains to be seen. Rejoice In Sin is an album that's enjoyable in the moment but leaves no lingering scars.

Rating: 7.4 out of 10, because while Burial knows how to ride into battle, they seem a bit too content to march in circles once they get there.