Time to fucking slay!

BRAT return with Manslayer sounding like a band that has become much more comfortable with just how ugly they want their music to be. The New Orleans group still sit somewhere between death metal, hardcore, grind, and thrash, but this time the combination feels more deliberate and more fully formed. After Social Grace, there is a noticeable improvement in how the different pieces fit together, particularly when the band slow things down and let the bass, drums, and guitars create something genuinely oppressive. The record still has plenty of speed and abrasive riffing, but there is more attention paid to atmosphere and vocal presence. The result is a filthy, compact-feeling collection of extreme metal that sounds like BRAT have figured out which parts of their identity are worth pushing further.

The opening atmosphere is immediately important. The distorted introduction gradually drags itself forward before giving way to ugly guitar tones, deep bass, restrained percussion, and eventually the full attack. That buildup makes the arrival of “Aileen Wuornos” feel considerably more violent, with fast drums, sharp riffs, and Liz Selfish's vocals cutting through the mix with much more authority than they sometimes did on Social Grace. One of the most obvious improvements here is the vocal production. Her voice feels bigger and deeper, and even when the guitars become dense, she remains an active part of the arrangement instead of disappearing behind it. There is still plenty of room around the instruments, but this time that space works in her favor.

The guitars continue to be the center of BRAT's sound, jumping between death-metal riffing, grind-inspired bursts, thrashy patterns, and slower hardcore grooves. “Speculum Bleed” is a particularly good example of the band balancing those extremes. The song can move from frantic blast beats into slower, uglier passages without the transition feeling completely arbitrary, and there are some faster sections that carry an almost black-metal intensity. The strange percussion tucked into the arrangement also adds a little character without distracting from the riffs. BRAT aren't trying to make these songs technically complicated; they're interested in finding different ways to make simple ideas sound hostile.

That becomes clearer as the record moves into the more groove-oriented material. “Botch Tox” is one of the strongest examples because it gives the rhythm section enough space to become part of the hook. The drums move between fast thrash passages and slower mosh sections, while the bass provides a thick foundation underneath the guitars. A short guitar solo adds another flash of personality without turning the song into some pointless showcase. The band sound especially locked in here, and the heavier section feels much more physical than some of the less focused moments on Social Grace.

The interlude “Bone Spurs” is also stupid in exactly the right way. A quick voicemail about fucked-up bone spurs from headbanging could easily feel like a disposable joke, but it fits BRAT's overall personality and creates a little breathing room before the music returns to destroying your neck. That sense of humor is important because the band's music is otherwise so grim and disgusting. The silly moments don't undermine the darkness; they make the whole thing feel more human and remind you that BRAT are having fun with how fucking nasty they can make this stuff sound.

“Media Slop” takes a more restrained route, beginning with slower percussion before the guitars and bass eventually fill out the arrangement. The song isn't as immediately explosive as some of the faster material, but that slower pacing allows the production to become part of the experience. The vocals sound rough and nasty without needing to be pushed aggressively into the foreground, while the rhythm section gradually becomes more active. By the ending, the song settles into a thick groove that feels heavier precisely because BRAT didn't rush toward it.

“Trophy Hunting” continues that darker, slower side with thick bass, hard drums, and riffs built more for headbanging than speed. The songwriting isn't radically different from other modern death-metal and hardcore material, but the low-end production gives it a satisfying physical presence. The synchronized clicking and gunshot-style sounds toward the end are another strange little production decision that adds to the album's atmosphere. Those details help separate BRAT from bands that simply rely on downtuned guitars and breakdowns without giving the surrounding environment much thought.

“Asking For Hell” reinforces the groove-heavy side of the record, while the faster material keeps returning just when things threaten to settle too comfortably. That's one of the better pacing decisions here. BRAT seem to understand that speed is more effective when you've been forced to sit inside a slower riff for a while. The final burst of thrashy guitar work in “Heretic Burning” is a good example of that approach, bringing the record back toward its more frantic side without abandoning the low, nasty grooves that have become such a strong part of the band's sound.

The bass is especially impressive throughout Manslayer. It has enough presence to function as more than reinforcement for the guitars, particularly during the slower sections. That gives songs like “Trophy Hunting” and “Asking For Hell” a much heavier foundation and helps create the feeling that the entire band is moving as one mass. The guitars still dominate the higher frequencies, but the low end gives everything some serious fucking weight.

The drums are similarly strong when BRAT allow them to become dynamic. Fast patterns, blast beats, rolling fills, heavy kicks, and sharp cymbal work all appear throughout the record. They don't constantly show off, but there is enough variation to stop the faster songs from becoming a blur. The snare has plenty of punch, and the contrast between rapid sections and slower grooves makes the breakdowns feel earned instead of automatic.

The production, handled by Andy Nelson at Chicago's Bricktop Recording and mastered by Brad Boatright, gives the album considerably more definition while still keeping its filthy character. That balance is important because BRAT's music needs some dirt around the edges. Too clean and the whole thing would lose its personality; too muddy and the riffs wouldn't have enough impact. Manslayer generally lands in a good middle ground, giving the guitars enough room while allowing the bass and vocals to remain substantial.

The biggest weakness is that some of the songwriting remains fairly straightforward. BRAT have become better at arranging their ingredients, but they don't always push an idea beyond its first strong impression. A few slower sections could probably have been trimmed, while certain transitions still feel like they're moving from one familiar extreme-metal part into another. The record is most exciting when the band introduce some unexpected texture or shift the balance between speed, groove, and atmosphere.

That said, I think Manslayer benefits from not trying to completely abandon what made Social Grace work. BRAT aren't suddenly turning into a different kind of band. They're sharpening the sound they already have. The death-metal riffs are nastier, the thrash influence feels more integrated, the hardcore grooves carry more weight, and Selfish's vocals are much harder to lose inside the mix.

There is also something satisfying about how seriously the band commit to their own version of ugliness. The grotesque imagery, ridiculous interludes, distorted guitars, filthy bass, blast beats, and nasty vocals all belong to the same world. Even when BRAT are being intentionally stupid, the music underneath still has enough conviction that the joke doesn't completely take over.

That's why Manslayer works better for me when I look at the record as a whole rather than isolating individual songs. “Aileen Wuornos,” “Speculum Bleed,” “Botch Tox,” “Trophy Hunting,” and “Heretic Burning” all represent different parts of the band's attack, while moments like “Bone Spurs” give the record enough personality to keep the darkness from becoming one-dimensional. The album feels more controlled without becoming sterile.

BRAT have clearly spent this release figuring out how much they can get away with. Sometimes they lean into the chaos, sometimes they crawl, and sometimes they simply let one filthy riff sit there until it starts feeling fucking enormous. That patience makes the heavier explosions more effective.

Manslayer doesn't need to reinvent extreme metal to be successful. BRAT already have a recognizable combination of death metal, thrash, grind, hardcore, humor, and swampy Southern atmosphere. What matters is that the pieces are becoming better connected, and that improvement is obvious here. The vocals have more authority, the bass has serious presence, the guitars sound more confident, and the rhythm section understands when to attack and when to hang back.

There are still moments where the songwriting feels familiar, and a few ideas could have been developed or trimmed, but those issues don't overshadow the record's strengths. Manslayer feels like BRAT taking the nastiest parts of their sound and giving them a little more focus without cleaning away the dirt.

It's mean, gross, occasionally fucking ridiculous, and most importantly, it sounds like BRAT.

And after a record like this, I don't think anyone is going to confuse them for a polite band.