Age of Apocalypse aren’t just another New York hardcore band. On In Oblivion, they push the genre’s boundaries with a sound that feels both ghostly and punishing, divine and feral. The record thrives in a constant tension: at one moment you’re swept into something soaring and almost sacred, the next you’re crushed beneath riffs heavy enough to split pavement. It’s a balance few hardcore acts even attempt, let alone execute this convincingly.

That duality is established immediately with opener “Mortal Coil.” The track begins with haunting spoken word and priest-like clean vocals that draw listeners into an atmosphere of eerie reverence. But the serenity is quickly shattered by jagged riffs and a cavernous low end, setting the tone for the rest of the record. Colin’s vocals sit at the center of this storm. His delivery is part sermon, part wail, part roar—capable of channeling something heavenly in one phrase, then dragging the listener into the abyss in the next. This vocal elasticity gives the album its spiritual edge, turning each track into a confrontation between light and shadow.

Instrumentally, the band works as a tightly locked-in unit. The bass is unusually prominent for hardcore, plucky and twangy, giving tracks like “Maximum Suffering” and the title track “In Oblivion” a distinct texture that sets them apart from the typical wall of distortion. The riffs shift constantly in character: vicious and sharp in “Gilded Hatred,” swinging into pure heavy beatdowns on “Symbol of Mourning,” and spiraling into almost alt-rock expansiveness on “Equalizer.” Drums, meanwhile, act as the album’s spine—massive, primal, and never overplayed. Their booming fills and ritualistic pounding create an atmosphere where even the quietest moments feel loaded with menace.

One of In Oblivion’s most effective tools is its use of acoustic guitar. Heard on “Maximum Suffering,” the interlude “Apocalypse Intro,” and the closer “Over Mine,” these acoustic passages are far more than ornamentation. They give the record an eerie, funereal atmosphere, a sense of calm before inevitable destruction. When the full band erupts after these moments, the contrast is seismic. Closer “Over Mine” especially benefits from this slow-burn structure, transforming into something sorrowful yet towering—a final statement that lingers long after the last chord fades.

Guest contributions also add depth without breaking the album’s cohesion. On “Impulse,” the feature from Hi Vis blends seamlessly with Colin’s delivery, layering divine cleans against hardcore grit. “Snake Oil God” taps into classic NYHC tradition with gang vocals, but twists them through Age of Apocalypse’s darker, more atmospheric lens. These additions feel like natural extensions of the album’s identity, helping the sound sprawl without losing focus.

What makes In Oblivion compelling is that it refuses to settle for monotony. Yes, the breakdowns hit hard—the back half of “Gilded Hatred” is crushing, and “Symbol of Mourning” finds new weight by slowing to an ominous crawl—but the band is always conscious of pacing. Stop-and-go riffing, layered vocal approaches, and dynamic shifts prevent the record from becoming a blur of sameness. Even at its heaviest, the music breathes. And with a concise runtime, each song fulfills its role in shaping a record that feels massive, unrelenting, and purposeful.

In Oblivion is hardcore as a haunted cathedral: heavy stone, cracked stained glass, echoes of sermons and screams. It’s sacred and profane, brutal and melodic. In pushing beyond hardcore’s typical confines, Age of Apocalypse have created one of the most distinctive statements to emerge from the scene in recent years.

Score: 9/10