There are bands from which people demand evolution, risk and rupture. And there are others that seem to exist precisely to remind us that certain formulas do not need to be reinvented, but executed with conviction, weight and the smell of the grave. Entrails clearly belongs to this second category. With ‘Grip of Ancient Evil’, the Swedish band does not try to escape its own language or disguise itself as something new. On the contrary, it sinks its hands once again into the same mud: old school Swedish Death Metal, rotten guitars, dark melodies, direct riffs and an atmosphere that seems to come from a damp cemetery.
Saying that Entrails offers nothing radically new on this album would be correct, but also incomplete. Because the question with a band like this should not only be whether it innovates or not. The real question is whether it can still make a familiar formula feel alive, heavy and necessary. And at several moments on ‘Grip of Ancient Evil’, the answer is yes. Entrails does not come to change the map of Death Metal; it comes to remind us why that map is still covered with corpses.
The album moves within very recognizable coordinates. There are clear echoes of the Swedish tradition: that school where the riff has to be simple but deadly, where melody does not soften the violence but makes it more memorable, and where the production must sound thick, dirty and sharp at the same time. Entrails understands that language from the inside. It does not sound like a young band trying to imitate an era it did not live through; it sounds like a band that knows exactly which grave it is opening.
Another point that deserves to be highlighted is the sound of the album. ‘Grip of Ancient Evil’ sounds exquisite within the parameters of Swedish Death Metal: thick, rotten, heavy and clear enough for every riff to have presence without losing that essential dirt. This is not a sterile modern production, nor a retro caricature. It is a well-crafted sound, with guitars roaring from below, solid drums and a mix that allows the band to sound massive while still smelling like a crypt.
The strength of the album lies in its craft. The songs move forward with confidence, without unnecessary ornaments and without wasting too much time on experiments. The band strikes through the riff, through the dark groove and through that sense of threat that has always been part of the best Swedish Death Metal. There are no major surprises, but there is solid execution. And sometimes that matters more than it seems. In a scene where many bands try to sound old only through aesthetics, Entrails still understands that old school is not just a pedal, a logo or a cover artwork: it is a way of writing songs.
Another important element in ‘Grip of Ancient Evil’ is the arrival of Julian Bellenox on vocals. His presence slightly changes the character of Entrails without breaking the band’s identity. His delivery leans more towards a “gruff bark”, a rough, dry and frontal bite, like a true demon vomiting curses from an open grave. While some previous vocal approaches in the band were closer to a mid-pitched growl with rougher, snarling edges, here the voice feels drier, more violent and more condemnatory. What makes this interesting is that both forms belong to the classic vocabulary of Swedish Death Metal. It does not feel like a rupture, but rather like a change of texture within the same rotten tradition.
There are also details that allow the album to be seen beyond the simple idea of “more of the same”. A reviewer on YouTube mentioned that ‘Fed to the Dead’ had a certain closeness to Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. After listening to the song again, the observation makes sense. I would not take it as a direct quotation, but there is a melodic passage with that same nocturnal, funeral and almost circular feeling. Of course, Entrails drags that atmosphere into a completely different place: instead of piano and classical sadness, here we have rotten Swedish Death Metal guitars, graveyard weight and a melody that seems buried under dirt.
Now, the risk of ‘Grip of Ancient Evil’ lies exactly in the same place as its virtue. The formula works, but it also feels familiar. There are moments where one can anticipate the band’s movement before it happens: the heavy riff, the morbid melody, the drum attack, the funeral drag, the return to the assault. For some listeners, that will be part of the charm; for others, it may feel like too safe a zone. Entrails does not seem worried about that debate. The band is not asking permission to sound like Entrails.
And perhaps that is what makes it interesting. ‘Grip of Ancient Evil’ is not an album trying to open a new stage for Swedish Death Metal. It is rather a confirmation of identity. A kind of pact with a way of understanding the genre where death remains physical, damp and recognizable. The album does not feel modern, but it does not sound empty either. It has that quality of bands that do not need to explain their intention too much: they plug in, open the grave and let the smell do the rest.
In the end, ‘Grip of Ancient Evil’ is an album that lives and dies by its loyalty to a tradition. It does not bring a revolution, but it does not seem to want one either. Its strength lies in the conviction with which Entrails continues to work a language it knows too well. Some may hear more of the same here. And they would probably be right. But when “the same” still sounds heavy, dark and rotten, perhaps the discussion is not whether the band has changed, but whether that ancient death still has the strength to drag us down.
