Regress’ self-titled EP firmly stakes its claim in the lineage of London hardcore, drawing from the city’s tradition of grit-over-gloss and filtering it through a working-class lens. There’s nothing flashy here, and the band doesn’t try to be. Instead, the EP thrives on density, confrontation, and rawness, built around thick, downtuned riffs, punishing drum patterns, and barked vocals that feel like genuine outbursts rather than performances. At its best, this unpolished approach gives the music an intentional, almost tactile brutality; at its weakest, the same roughness borders on undercooked or unfocused.

That tension is evident from the ominous opening of “Reaper’s Grip.” A warped sample and muffled instrumentation set a grim, foreboding tone, and while the playing sometimes feels loose—as if the band is still finding its footing—the clarity of the vocals keeps the chaos grounded. The early stretch of the EP favors straightforward song structures, prioritizing sheer weight over nuance. Some riffs feel stiff or simplistic, and occasional lapses in cohesion pull the listener out of the moment, but the payoff is always in the breakdowns. These sections are consistently dense, ugly, and effective, demonstrating the band’s instinct for crafting moments of pure impact. The lack of polish can actually amplify the aggression, making those heavy sections feel unfiltered, raw, and almost accidental in their brutality.

As the EP progresses, flashes of ambition emerge. “Until the End” leans into overt metal and slam influences, incorporating faster tempos, busier drum work, and a bass tone that finally breathes within the mix. Not everything lands perfectly—the vocal shifts can feel rough or occasionally forced—but the track highlights both the band’s potential and their inconsistencies. One moment hits hard and visceral, while the next threatens to pull the listener out of it. Yet the underlying instinct for crushing breakdowns never wavers, and that foundational skill carries much of the EP.

The final track, “No Trends,” offers the most intriguing glimpse of what Regress could become. The riffs remain deep and punishing, but the addition of washed-out, almost shoegaze-tinged vocals introduces personality and texture absent from earlier tracks. Even the breakdowns feel more deliberate here, balancing blunt force with atmosphere and suggesting that the band is capable of evolving beyond sheer aggression. It’s a brief but tantalizing glimpse of depth and creative range waiting to be explored further.

Ultimately, Regress’ self-titled EP is confrontational, heavy, and unmistakably rooted in the London hardcore scene, though it’s uneven in execution. The band’s strength lies in their ability to make the music feel oppressive and hostile, even when the songwriting wobbles. With tighter cohesion, more polish, and a willingness to expand on the experimentation hinted at toward the end, Regress could transform this raw aggression into something far more compelling and fully realized. For now, the EP stands as a dense, visceral statement of intent—a band still sharpening its edge but already capable of delivering real, bone-deep impact.