Scowl’s full-length We Are All Angels doesn’t feel like a reinvention—it feels like an evolution, a sharpening of their identity. If Psychic Dance Routine was a thrilling, genre-warping EP that channeled hardcore rage through a ’90s alt-rock prism, then We Are All Angels is the next logical step: more deliberate, more emotionally nuanced, and just as gripping.

You can still trace the DNA of Psychic Dance Routine—those psychedelic riffs, the punchy punk edges, the thick-textured bass lines—but here they’ve been refined and redistributed across a broader emotional and stylistic range. The contrast is less explosive, more cohesive; the peaks and valleys are still there, but the transitions are smoother, more confidently handled.

Right from the opener, Scowl signals that they’re aiming for something different. “Special” replaces the EP’s punishing breakdowns with woozy, dissonant guitar lines that recall the gentler side of ’90s alt-rock, while Kat Moss’s vocals shift effortlessly between grounded grit and a lighter, melodic lilt. It’s an early clue: clarity and resonance have overtaken chaos and catharsis as the band’s driving forces—without sacrificing intensity.

That sense of clarity and control runs deep through the album. On “B.A.B.E.”, the band merges punk urgency with a melodic indie groove, leaning into tighter arrangements and thicker bass textures. The guitars are still jagged, the drums still compact and direct, but everything feels more lived-in. There’s less sense of surprise and more a sense of purpose—Scowl isn’t just experimenting anymore; they’re shaping something intentional.

The 90s alt-rock influence remains a central thread, but rather than acting as contrast to their hardcore side, it now serves as the canvas. Tracks like “Fantasy,” “Fleshed Out,” and “Let You Down” use hypnotic, swirling riffs and reverb-drenched guitars to build atmospheric, often haunting backdrops. Kat’s vocals float and stretch more than they stab, and the rhythm section—especially the bass—grounds the tracks in a thick, emotional undercurrent. These songs breathe, but they do so with tension; the space they offer is deliberate, not incidental.

Even when Scowl leans back into their punk roots—like on “Not Hell, Not Heaven”—they do so with a more integrated approach. The rawness is still there, but the edges have been sanded down just enough to allow groove and clarity to take the lead. It’s less about shock, more about flow. The bite hasn’t disappeared, but it’s now part of a larger, more articulate vocabulary.

Then there are the surprises—moments that would’ve felt out of place on the EP, but feel right at home here. “Tonight (I’m Afraid)” struts on a funky bassline and bold, minimalist drumwork, veering into almost playful territory before flipping into screamed pop hooks that twist the vibe on its head. It’s these kinds of unexpected grooves—subtle, infectious, and just a little off-center—that show how far Scowl’s range has expanded.

There’s also a deepening of emotional tone, a willingness to sit with darker, moodier textures. “Suffer the Fool (How High Are You?)” and “Haunted” slow things down, stretching into sludgy, alt-metal territory. The vocals distort, the pacing drags with intention, and the songs soak in a grungy melancholy that contrasts sharply—but elegantly—with the record’s tighter moments. Where Psychic Dance Routine let light and aggression clash in turn, We Are All Angels folds them into each other, forming a slow-burn emotional weight that lingers.

The album’s closer, “Are We All Angels,” ties everything together. It’s a near-perfect synthesis of the album’s ethos: punk urgency, lush bass, melodic polish, and Kat’s clean-throated scream—a new weapon in the band’s growing arsenal. It feels like a mission statement, not just for the record, but for Scowl’s trajectory as a band: no longer swinging between extremes, but finding new forms within the fusion.

What Psychic Dance Routine hinted at—Scowl’s ability to blend contradiction into cohesion—We Are All Angels builds into a philosophy. Gone are the jarring spikes and clean breaks. In their place: groove, atmosphere, texture, and a maturing sense of emotional clarity. Scowl hasn’t abandoned their hardcore roots; they’ve expanded outward from them, drawing new lines that blur punk, alt-rock, and even hints of post-metal into a sound that’s increasingly their own.

The result isn’t just a good next step—it’s a leap forward. We Are All Angels is confident, dynamic, and surprisingly graceful. A band once defined by its raw power now speaks in rhythm, breath, and tone—and it still hits just as hard.

Rating: 8/10