Straight-edge doom from Arizona? That’s already a wild concept, but Drug Dependency takes it even further—this is doom metal made for and by cavemen. Imagine a Neanderthal stumbling upon a distortion pedal for the first time and refusing to let go.

"Meth for a Growing Heart"

The track kicks off with an eerie, drowning bass tone that feels like it's being played from the bottom of a well. Then, out of nowhere, we’re thrown headfirst into lo-fi, distorted powerviolence-grindcore chaos. The DIY production is rough but not unlistenable—it actually adds a raw, scrappy charm to the song. The contrast between the murky instrumentals and the surprisingly clear drum taps is a nice touch.

Vocals? Somewhere between a rabid dog and a garbage disposal malfunctioning at full speed. Honestly, they work well in this raw style, but I could also see them sounding killer with a more polished metal production. The pacing is solid, making its short runtime feel like a complete gut punch rather than a rushed flail.

"Gone is the Talking Cricket"

And just like that, we’re catapulted into even more distortion and chaos. The transition from the last song is seamless, keeping up the relentless energy. Deep, hollow-sounding drums drive the track, giving it an almost hypnotic effect. Is there bass? Who knows. Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, the song doesn’t feel like it’s missing anything.

Halfway through, they switch things up with some eerie clean spoken word sections—because why not add a little existential dread to the mix? By the end, the drumming goes full-on feral, making this one of the most ominous and evil-sounding tracks so far. Seven minutes flew by in what felt like a fever dream.

"Make a Change"

Now we’re getting massive, cavernous riffs that feel heavier than a guilty conscience. The production seems to have cleaned up a bit, making the guitars and drums hit even harder. Speaking of drums, they’ve got this primal, tribal energy to them—like a doomsday cult summoning something unspeakable.

Each track escalates the doom factor, and at this point, the filthy production is no longer a drawback—it’s a feature.

"Pinocchio is Dead"

The grand finale, and oh boy, does it deliver. The transition from the last track is seamless, like everything has been building toward this one moment. Thunderous drums set the stage while slow, dense riffs crush anything in their path. The vocals sound even more deranged, spitting rapid, unhinged screams into the void.

At times, the vocals do get a little too muffled, making them hard to decipher, but honestly, who needs clarity when the music itself is putting you in a full-blown trance? The pacing is fantastic—it doesn’t drag, nor does it feel rushed. This is a listen to the whole demo in one go kind of experience, where the final track makes the entire journey feel complete.

Drug Dependency has carved out a sound that is both filthy and mesmerizing. The raw, DIY production may not be for everyone, but it gives the demo an identity. If you can embrace the grit, you’ll find an immersive, doom-drenched experience that demands to be played loud. And yes, Pinocchio is dead—but his spirit lives on in these distorted, unrelenting riffs.