The third installment of Mike Watt’s one‑for‑one split series drops a new Split 9 self‑titled track, and it smacks the scene awake. I hear a wall of distortion that refuses to apologize. Every chord screams louder than the last. The song refuses to compromise, demanding total attention. Listeners who crave subtlety will quit before the second minute.
Riff Warfare
James Bradell unleashes a riff that slices through the mix like a serrated blade. The opening motif repeats with surgical precision, then mutates into a cascade of chromatic runs. No filler notes linger; each hammer‑on serves a purpose. The rhythm guitar follows with a churning, palm‑muted onslaught that never relents. The result is a relentless barrage that outshines any mainstream metal offering this decade.
The lead line never breathes; it charges forward with relentless velocity. Bradell’s tone is raw, saturated, and unforgiving, cutting through the low end without compromise. The harmonic minor inflection adds a sinister edge that feels like a threat. Every bend hits with the weight of a sledgehammer. The riff stands as a benchmark for future shredcraft.
Vocal Assault
The vocal delivery is a snarling roar that refuses to be melodic. The lyrics punch through the distortion with brutal clarity. Each syllable lands like a hammer blow, driving the listener deeper into the maelstrom. There is no room for melodic choruses; the voice remains a weapon. The performance proves that true metal vocals belong in the trenches, not on glossy radio.
The phrasing is relentless, never giving the ear a moment to recover. The vocalist rides the riff with precision, matching Bradell’s ferocity note for note. The aggression feels authentic, not a gimmick. Every shout reinforces the track’s siege mentality. The result is a vocal assault that could crush weaker bands.
Rhythm Section Reckoning
Keir Fraser pounds the drums with a machine‑like precision that borders on inhuman. The kick thunders, the snare cracks, and the cymbals slice through the wall of sound. Each fill accelerates the chaos without losing tightness. The tempo never wavers, keeping the track in perpetual motion. Fraser proves that metal drumming can be both brutal and technically flawless.
Funki Porcini anchors the low end with a bass line that snarls and growls in equal measure. The tone is gritty, digging into the mix like a predator. The bass follows the riff’s contour while adding a pulsating undercurrent that drives the song forward. No filler notes, just pure low‑frequency aggression. Porcini’s performance cements the rhythm section as an unbreakable foundation.
Production and Dynamics
The production embraces rawness over polish, and it works flawlessly. The guitars sit front‑center, the drums hit with surgical clarity, and the bass roars from the depths. No digital sheen dilutes the impact; the mix feels like a live assault. Dynamic shifts are brutal, moving from crushing walls to sudden, razor‑thin breaks that shock the listener. The overall soundscape proves that metal can be both savage and sonically coherent.
Split 9’s self‑titled track sets a new standard for uncompromising metal. It annihilates any notion that the genre has become safe or predictable. The song demands respect, reverence, and a willingness to be shattered. If you’re still waiting for a polite metal experience, you’ve missed the point. This track is a rallying cry for the ferocious future of rock.