Emerging from the icy, synth-laden theatrics of Decemberunderground, AFI’s Crash Love represents one of the most pronounced stylistic shifts in the band’s career. If Sing the Sorrow captured their grand emotional evolution and Decemberunderground leaned into cold, experimental reinvention, Crash Love sees AFI stripping away much of their darkness in favor of a brighter, swaggering alt-rock approach. It’s polished, confident, and colorful, yet it’s also the album where the band’s signature heaviness and mystique—hallmarks of their earlier work—are noticeably diminished.

From the very first moments, the shift is clear. Guitars ring crisp and clean, bass is prominently forward in the mix, and Davey Havok’s vocals—while expressive and emotive—sometimes struggle to cut through the dense instrumentation. This pattern continues throughout the album: bold riffs, pronounced bass, and massive choruses often shine, but the mix occasionally flattens the band’s natural intensity. The theatrical gloom of Decemberunderground, with its icy synths, dramatic builds, and genre-defying atmosphere, is largely replaced by a more indie-rock sensibility. Songs carry a bouncy, upbeat energy, full of swagger and jangly guitar tones—a departure that distances the album from AFI’s punk and hardcore roots.

Tracks like “Too Shy to Scream” and “Veronica Sawyer Smokes” highlight this levity most effectively. Playful drumming, twangy guitars, and catchy, pop-leaning hooks reveal a band unafraid to embrace fun. These songs feel alive, fresh, and genuinely different, even if the contrast with their previous material is jarring at first. Yet the album’s strongest moments emerge when AFI fuses this brighter alt-rock energy with emotional depth. Songs like “End Transmission,” “Okay, I Feel Better Now,” and “Darling, I Want to Destroy You” maintain a reflective, melancholic undertone, grounding the album with nuance and subtle intensity. These tracks feel like a natural continuation of Decemberunderground’s more introspective passages, proving the band can still deliver drama without relying on synth-heavy arrangements or hardcore aggression.

Still, Crash Love occasionally suffers from a diluted identity. Several tracks lean heavily into radio-friendly alt-rock territory, making them feel detached from the AFI sound fans know. The near-complete absence of screams, the focus on glossy guitar tones, and the overpowering bass mix can flatten the emotional range the band typically conveys. Even well-constructed songs sometimes feel like they could belong to a different band entirely—tight, catchy, and well-produced, but missing the signature spark that made AFI’s experimental peaks feel urgent and thrilling.

Despite these challenges, AFI’s mastery of pacing and vocal layering remains intact. Backing harmonies—whether choral or subtly textured—add fullness and depth, compensating for moments when Davey’s lead vocals feel recessed. And when he does reach into his more impassioned register, his voice retains the emotional gravity that has defined the band since Black Sails in the Sunset.

Ultimately, Crash Love serves as a transitional record. It demonstrates growth and musicianship while experimenting with brightness, color, and alt-rock swagger, but the album is uneven—lacking the iconic, era-defining moments that made Sing the Sorrow and Decemberunderground so memorable. It’s a collection of strong songs, some great ones, and a few that feel like experiments in progress. As a document of a band willing to evolve and redefine their sound, Crash Love is fascinating. It’s AFI embracing a new dimension of accessibility and fun while still searching for the perfect balance between melody, mood, and identity.