Are you prepared to be tortured? Torture might just be the most ingenious slam band to emerge in recent memory—or perhaps the most insufferable. On one hand, their music is some of the most excruciating to endure, but on the other, it's clear that everything they create serves a purpose: to express their disdain for war, to condemn the inhumane treatment of people, and to raise awareness about the atrocities happening, particularly in the Middle East. This band uses their sound as a form of protest, channeling raw emotion into the music with the hope of making listeners reflect on the horrors of our world.
The music itself is slow, down-tuned, and brutal, with a mix of frog-like squeals and heavy, sludgy riffs that hit you like a wrecking ball. The slow, grinding pace is what makes this band so hard to get through. Songs range from 3 minutes to 16 minutes of agonizingly drawn-out redundancies—chugging riffs, monotonous drum patterns, and near endless repetitions that make the music feel suffocating. Listening to the entire album in one sitting was one of the most grueling experiences I’ve had this year. The pace is so sluggish, you feel like your skin is being peeled away, and the crushing weight of the heaviness scrapes relentlessly at your ears. It’s almost as if the album is designed to make you feel every ounce of discomfort, creating an experience that tests your endurance.
The vocals are another element that makes the music even more difficult to stomach. With a low, frog-like squeal, the voice grinds on every frequency, causing an involuntary physical reaction. While I can appreciate the impressive vocal technique, listening to this style for over an hour is torturous in itself. The tonal quality of the voice, coupled with the long, drawn-out passages, has a suffocating effect, making you feel trapped in the unrelenting sound.
That said, when the band does pick up the pace, the music takes on a dynamic quality that provides some relief. The drums, especially during the faster sections, demonstrate some technical prowess with double kicks and blast beats that add an exciting energy to the tracks. When the tempo increases, the songs momentarily feel like "normal" metal, and it's a refreshing change. The riffs, when they speed up, also add a burst of energy, cutting through the slowness like a breath of fresh air.
However, the bulk of the album is overwhelmingly slow and difficult to get through. The final two tracks, though, are where Torture truly stands out. These last songs are haunting and melancholic in ways that words can’t easily capture. The first of the two is a powerful, instrumental track that feels incredibly cohesive and raw—there’s a sense of vulnerability in the composition that feels almost cathartic. But it’s the final track that really hits hardest. The repetitive, chilling use of instruments creates a mournful atmosphere, as if you are grieving the loss of countless lives in a war-torn landscape that stretches far beyond the horizon. It’s a deeply emotional piece of music that moved me to tears, the weight of its sadness and sorrow hitting me in a way that I hadn’t anticipated.
So, does the powerful message outweigh the torturous music? Sadly, no. While the message behind the album is undeniably important—raising awareness of the inhumanity and suffering in the world—the album itself is tough to endure. The sonic experience is grueling, and even though the themes are noble and significant, it’s a challenging listen. The music feels like an exercise in endurance, making it a difficult journey, even if the underlying message is worthy of recognition. The band has certainly crafted something distinct, but it's not an album everyone will be able to sit through without feeling emotionally and physically drained. The emotional payoff of the final tracks is profound, but it doesn’t entirely justify the overall experience.