Four years after taking some creative liberties on 2018's , Florida-bred rock outfit remind listeners that they haven't softened one bit with the absolutely rabid . Back with a vengeance, the band further refine their late-era sonic maturation, polishing the chaotic torrent of bloody screams, ghostly harmonies, and dark themes with pristine production and a a tightened songwriting assault. Time and personal growth have not dulled their edges nor done much to ameliorate the group's angst, as timeless lyrical topics such as self-doubt, fear, apathy, rage, and dread churn alongside 's struggles with faith and organized religion. Taking cues from influences and followers like and , launch straight into the fire with the towering ferocity of "Damn Excuses" before tearing everything down with the choir-backed anthem "Hallelujah," which rides the earworm chorus cries of, "Cut the lights, face yourself/We're not dreaming, this is Hell." Equally throat-shredding cuts such as "Cycle" with trap-metal ghoul , and a pair of near-industrial, apocalyptic salvos "Take a Breath" and "Numb" keep the energy at an unbearably urgent high, but mercifully add a few spare moments to breathe before spiraling out of control once more. Even though "I'm Pretty Sure I'm Out of Luck and Have No Friends" ends with an explosive, visceral bang, the haunting track builds patiently through a cinematic, piano-backed soundscape, one that is bested by the even-more tortured "(No Oasis)," a contemplative dirge that laments, "In the desert of denialâ?¦ no oasis to be seen." "Pneumonia" channels the creative energy of ' era on an expansive highlight that progresses from a near-angelic state into a tumultuous storm of screams, plodding riffs, and bashing percussion. Urgent, bloody, and desperate, is a revelation in the band's catalog, an ideal collision of their early-era vigor and increasingly expert control of their power and fury. ~ Neil Z. Yeung