If Black Sails in the Sunset was AFI learning to summon darkness, All Hallow’s EP is where they learned to command it. In just four tracks and fifteen minutes, the band crystallizes the identity they had been chasing—a theatrical, eerie, and fiercely confident sound that feels fully their own. Released mere months after the sprawling, ambitious full-length, this EP acts as both a continuation and a refinement, sharpening the gothic punk energy of its predecessor into a compact, intense burst. From the opening crawl of “Fall Children,” the mood is unmistakable. Guitars creep forward like shadows, bass lurks with a simmering presence, and Davey Havok’s deliberate, low delivery evokes the flicker of a candle in a darkened room. Then, as if released from a spell, the band erupts into tight, driving punk rhythms, gang vocals, and echoing “woahs” that feel custom-built for Halloween. Even the eerie, toy-box noises at the end of the track aren’t mere decoration—they signal a band fully aware of how to craft atmosphere as deliberately as they craft riffs.

AFI’s cover of the Misfits’ “Halloween” demonstrates how seamlessly the band has internalized their influences. It’s not a tribute so much as a reinterpretation, a reinvention. The pounding drums and high-mixed, rumbling bass give the track a weight the original never had, while Havok’s voice navigates the line between reverence and menace. Haunted-carnival piano and ghostly noise close the track with theatrical flourish, underscoring how AFI had begun shaping soundscapes that extended beyond simple punk aggression.

“The Boy Who Destroyed the World” serves as the heartbeat of this era, blending speed, melody, and cinematic sensibility. Riffs slice sharply, drums pivot dynamically, and the bass thumps like a pulse throughout the track. Havok belts with raw conviction, and backing vocals rise behind him, creating a chorus that feels both darkly theatrical and emotionally urgent. It’s a track where AFI’s gothic and punk impulses finally converge, hinting at the dramatic, arena-ready alt-rock that would define Sing the Sorrow just a few years later.

Closing the EP, “Totalimmortal” functions as both a victory lap and a statement of arrival. Bass-driven and groove-laden, the song builds with patience before exploding into massive hooks, its energy taut and relentless. The interplay between Havok’s lead and the gang vocals feels effortless, almost celebratory, as though the band themselves realized mid-song that they had unlocked the sound they had been seeking. The title couldn’t be more apt: All Hallow’s is AFI discovering creative immortality, staking a claim in the gothic punk landscape on their own terms.

Across its brief runtime, All Hallow’s bridges the raw aggression of AFI’s hardcore roots with the gothic precision and melodic ambition that would soon define them. The bass is more commanding, the drumming sharper, the vocals more expressive, and the atmospheric touches—haunted noises, eerie pianos, and precise pacing—show a band increasingly comfortable with nuance and theatricality. Every track feels deliberate, every moment charged, making the EP both transitional and transcendent.

In the end, All Hallow’s isn’t just a stopgap release; it’s a metamorphosis. AFI moves beyond their punk beginnings into a space that is distinctly theirs—a world of shadowy energy, cinematic aggression, and haunting melody. Short, dark, and brimming with life, this EP captures the moment when AFI stopped merely walking into the storm and learned to dance, and ultimately, to rule it.