Mizery have always existed in a strange but compelling lane within hardcore—never fully locked into the genre’s rigid expectations, yet never drifting so far that they lose that raw, foundational edge. Since their early run and the groove-heavy punch of Absolute Light, they’ve carved out a reputation built on bounce, rhythm, and a clear willingness to experiment. This self-titled EP feels like the most intentional step forward in that evolution, shaped by time, loss, and a noticeable shift in tone. It’s a record that values mood over immediacy—less about hitting hard on first listen, and more about sitting with a feeling.

“Renegade Rhythm” sets that tone in a way that might catch people off guard. The band leans heavily into space and texture, opening with echoing, almost dreamy guitar work that feels closer to alternative rock than hardcore. It’s subdued, moody, and deliberately restrained. That ringing, open guitar tone they’ve flirted with in the past is pushed to the forefront here, creating a sense of distance rather than urgency. The rhythm section still does its job—tight drums, a thick low-end presence—but the expected punch never fully arrives. Even as the track builds and introduces more aggressive elements, it stops short of fully committing, making it feel like a stylistic pivot that’s intriguing, but slightly held back.

“99 to 1” continues down that path, though with a bit more weight behind it. The bass cuts through more clearly, the guitars carry a heavier crunch, and the overall feel leans into something more emotionally driven than physically aggressive. José Luna’s vocals stand out here for what they aren’t—there’s still an absence of full-on hardcore shouting, replaced instead with a controlled, almost melodic delivery. It reinforces the idea that this version of Mizery is operating on a different wavelength. There’s a quiet heaviness running through the track, especially in the drawn-out guitar lines, and when the band finally taps into a more familiar thrash-leaning groove toward the end, it feels less like a payoff and more like a brief callback to where they came from.

“The Weapon Pt. I” and “Pt. II” work best when viewed as a single piece. The first half is all tension—slow, distant, and restrained, building atmosphere without release. When “Pt. II” finally hits, it brings back elements of classic Mizery: deeper grooves, harsher vocals, and riffs that feel more chaotic and alive. There’s a push-and-pull dynamic here between space and impact that actually plays to their strengths. The heavier moments land with purpose, even if they lack the instant gratification of the band’s earlier material.

“Through a Bullet Hole” is easily the most unexpected track on the EP. It strips things down even further, leaning into softer vocal delivery, deep bass tones, and a slower, almost hypnotic pacing. The riffs carry a bluesy, almost jazzy feel—something Mizery have hinted at before, but never embraced this directly. It’s a clear left turn, but it doesn’t feel unfocused. If anything, it comes across as a deliberate experiment—one that doesn’t fully land as a standout, but still adds to the EP’s overall identity.

“Eulogy” closes the project in a way that pulls everything together. There’s a real emotional weight here, and it comes through most strongly in the vocal performance—more expressive, more strained, and carrying a genuine sense of loss. The guitars maintain that same atmospheric quality that runs throughout the EP, but this time they’re anchored to a more defined structure. There are subtle touches of nu-metal influence as well, particularly in the vocal layering and the almost rap-adjacent outro. The feature from Sammy Ciaramitaro adds another layer of unpredictability—it’s slightly buried, slightly unconventional, but it fits the track’s overall mood.

What ultimately defines this EP is how much it pulls away from immediacy. The groove is still there, and the band’s DNA remains intact, but everything feels slowed down, more spaced out, and more introspective. It’s difficult not to view that shift through the lens of Cayle Sain’s passing—this sounds like a band processing something deeper, rather than simply trying to hit as hard as possible. That comes with trade-offs. The emotional depth is stronger than ever, but the urgency and replay value don’t hit in the same way.

In the end, this isn’t a comeback built on nostalgia or pure intensity—it’s a transitional release. Mizery are actively reshaping their identity, even if that means sacrificing some of the explosive energy that once defined them. Not every idea fully lands, and at times it feels like they’re still figuring out what this new version of the band is supposed to be. But there’s enough intention, atmosphere, and growth here to make that evolution worth paying attention to.