On their new EP Empire, hardcore bruisers Doresa deliver a sound that’s raw, jagged, and utterly uncompromising. Across five tracks, the band plant their flag somewhere between metallic hardcore, sludge, and metalcore, crafting a style that’s both punishing and deliberate. It’s the kind of record that thrives on tension — between precision and chaos, clarity and grit, collapse and control. While brief in runtime, Empire leaves an outsized impression: this is a band willing to experiment with hardcore’s foundation while keeping its violent heart intact.
The opener, “Half-Life,” wastes no time setting the scene. A fleeting, almost ghostly clean sample gives way to the real storm: tuned-down bass rattling like tectonic plates, drums hammering with martial precision, and riffs that arrive drenched in distortion. What’s striking is the balance of the mix — polished enough to sound massive, but still caked in grime. As the track shifts into slower, weightier grooves, it feels as if the walls of the room are closing in, shrinking beneath the sheer density of sound.
“Man Bites Dog” doubles down on the chaos, riding a wave of dissonant riffing and drums that crack like distant gunfire. The vocal performance here stands out, shifting unpredictably between cavernous lows and serrated highs, injecting volatility into an already unstable structure. When the inevitable breakdown lands — a slow-motion collapse that seems to drag the track into a subterranean void — it’s less a release than a descent.
The midpoint, “A Place for Friends,” highlights Doresa’s willingness to stretch their palette. There’s a clearer metalcore influence at play, though the band never strays far from their hardcore backbone. The riffs cut sharper, the pacing feels more elastic, and the breakdown is cleverly seasoned with cymbal taps that build tension before the floor caves in. It’s a reminder that the band understands dynamics, not just brutality.
Then comes “A Word from Our Sponsors,” arguably the EP’s darkest moment. Opening with guttural fry-style vocals that sound like they’re bubbling up from a pit, the track plunges headfirst into one of the slowest, nastiest breakdowns you’re likely to hear this year. The bass groans beneath the weight, cymbals scatter like shrapnel, and the entire song feels like a slow-motion demolition, collapsing deeper and deeper until there’s nothing left but rubble.
Closer “Living Space” changes course, jolting the record back into motion with frantic drum blasts and more open, spacious riffing. After the suffocating heaviness of the previous track, this shift feels like the sonic equivalent of ripping a window open in a smoke-filled room. The aggression remains relentless, but the increased pace gives the song — and the EP as a whole — a sense of closure, a final exclamation point rather than a fade into decay.
What makes Empire stand out isn’t just its sheer weight, but the way Doresa use space, groove, and dissonance to carve their own identity. The riffs are jagged and ugly, the bass constantly threatening to crack the floorboards, and the drums drive everything forward with clarity and authority. Yet it’s the way breakdowns linger and grooves stretch past the point of comfort that leaves a lasting scar. These aren’t just songs that hit hard — they loom, menace, and suffocate.
Verdict: Empire is a short but devastating showcase for Doresa — an EP that manages to be both creative in its dissonance and merciless in its heaviness. If this is only the opening salvo, then whatever full-length assault they’re preparing will be nothing short of catastrophic.
NOTABLE TRACKS:
Man Bites Dog
A Word From Our Sponsors