Review by Felix on April 28, 2026.

"We just stick to our guns and have never felt the urge to stray too far from our path. We're a traditional death metal band, and that's never going to change." (Tobias Gustafsson in a German metal mag, April 2026).

Now tell me what I can add to this statement.

Let's try it, although Vomitory do exactly absolutely nothing new on "In Death Throes". They rip, they shred, they tear everything apart. In their very mild moments, they pay tribute to Slayer or Bolt Thrower decently. There is a new guitar player who has written four songs? You need to know it, otherwise you would never suspect it. On the other hand, the Swedes avoid once again what they have always avoided. Their tenth album is free from downers. These dudes are unable to deliver shit and they are simply the best death metal band worldwide, at least in my humble opinion. Perhaps this is because they do not put the sub-genre specialities to the extreme. Lead vocalist Erik does not only growl like a sick pit bull and the guitars are low-tuned, but not in an absurd, all kind of variation killing way.

With the first tones of the (naturally) merciless opener until the last note of the closer, pure violence teaches us the glory of absolute musical vehemence. "In Death Throes" is a declaration of war and makes some albums we call brutal sound like an old, worn-out vacuum cleaner. This is an honourable approach, no doubt about it, but it also features Vomitory as a band that feels extremely comfortable on its home territory. Forget no risk, no fun – here we have no risk, but fun. The conviction, the integrity and the authenticity of the quartet makes the difference. Moreover, the dudes seem to define the maximum of musical brutality anew with every new full-length. This must be a death metal fata morgana, because already albums like "Revelation Nausea" or at the latest "All Heads Are Gonna Roll" left no room for a higher degree of savagery. But maybe this is the magic part of Vomitory's success formula: they are always able to compose songs which make us believe they are more violent than those before, no matter whether this is right or not. Whatever future death metal scientists will find out, this is at least a cool trick.

Apart from the omnipresent brutality, the material offers a lot of very well designed tracks. "Rapture In Rupture" breaks in with a razor-sharp riff, "Forever Scorned" is a raging beast of the most rabid kind and "Cataclysmic Fleshfront" (what a name) leaves listeners who look as they have been through a baler. No nice thought, but impressive. A few morbid tones, for example at the beginning of the title track, are part of the album as well, but generally speaking, Vomitory plunder and pillage without having a close eye on atmosphere. The title track itself delivers many sections of total devastation and the inhuman precision of the musicians has an almost eerie touch. Unnatural forces appear to have been at work during production as well. As almost always, Vomitory fire their material on the basis of a highly aggressive, direct, clean yet destructive sound out of the boxes. This technical perfection completes the picture of a band that follows its clear vision, even if this vision is more of a still image. Thus, the only little downer is the artwork, but this is only I will never understand the visual aesthetics of death metal. So what. I enjoy ten excellent bonebreakers of the very competently performed kind. But now I am really running out of ideas, no clue, what I can write more about this album. Maybe Tobias wants the final words? "We just want to play death metal, that's all". Right.

Rating: 8.9 out of 10

Review by Norbert on April 17, 2026.

I've mentioned more than once (and will probably mention it again) that I'm a bit of a weirdo. Out of all that Swedish death metal, I don’t particularly value the biggest classics, I don’t bow before them, and I have an ambivalent attitude toward the “monumental” albums of the so-called Big Four — Entombed, Dismember, Grave, and Unleashed. I get the most enjoyment from lesser-known, less popular bands (like Necrophobic), or those playing not pure death metal but something different, stranger (Crypt Of Kerberos), or from acts operating on the border between death metal and other genres (Pan.Thy.Monium, Edge Of Sanity). I’ll graciously pass over what are probably the most popular names on the Swedish scene right now — Amon Amarth and Arch Enemy. No, I don’t listen to them.

Vomitory always struck me as part of the so-called solid second tier. Just cool, slightly no-frills umpa-umpa at above-average tempos, with equally solid production. I listened, but didn’t really return to them. Until a few years ago, when I saw them live and… something clicked. Suddenly, it turned out that their whole crude, direct style works much better when it hits you in the chest, not just in headphones.

"In Death Throes" — their tenth studio album, released last Friday — sounds like a continuation of that experience. No peacock feathers, no ambitions to redefine the genre. This has always been a band that found its piece of rock somewhere in the north and kept hammering at it with the same tool for years, until you finally started appreciating the rhythm of those blows. There’s a stubborn consistency to it, like in Nordic sagas, where nobody asks “why,” they just do their thing because that’s what needs to be done.

The material moves forward the way it usually does with them — without looking back at fashions or trends. The riffs are solid, often driven by a thrashy edge. The drums sometimes race like a sleigh speeding across ice, other times they dig in heavily, as if someone were trying to bury you in frozen ground. In the slower, more rolling sections, the “tank” motorics straight out of Bolt Thrower come to the forefront — that characteristic, inexorable march that doesn’t so much accelerate as simply crush everything in its path. Rundqvist’s vocals don’t mess around — this isn’t theater, it’s a roar meant to punch straight through you and leave no room for interpretation.

Despite how very “Swedish” all of this is, stylistically it sometimes feels closer to the American school of death metal — less of the characteristic buzzsawing, more direct, almost thrashy cutting. As if somewhere between Karlstad and some forgotten Baltic port, a portal opened leading straight to 1990s Florida.

The production also does a tremendous job — clear, heavy, yet not overloaded, with perfectly balanced space for each instrument. This isn’t a dirty basement or a sterile laboratory, but something like high-quality Swedish steel: a Volvo or a solid Mora knife. It may not scream “luxury,” but it works flawlessly, is durable, and refined in every detail. Because of that, even the most chaotic moments don’t blur into noise, but retain their power and clarity.

This is still the “second league of death metal,” if anyone really needs labels. Except it’s the kind that knows exactly why it’s stepping onto the pitch and doesn’t try to pretend it’s Guardiola-era Barcelona. Instead, you get solid, honest playing that doesn’t exhaust you with fake artistry.

Sometimes it’s enough that everything is in its right place — like a Swedish winter that doesn’t ask your opinion, just kicks the door in, knocks you flat on your back, and then follows up with an icy blast to the teeth. "In Death Throes" works exactly the same way: no discoveries, no surprises — just a solid, merciless, spectacular ass-kicking that you take straight to the chest without a word. And that’s probably the point.

Rating: 8.5 out of 10