{"id":230924,"date":"2026-03-02T22:04:13","date_gmt":"2026-03-02T21:04:13","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.angrymetalguy.com\/?p=230924"},"modified":"2026-03-02T22:04:13","modified_gmt":"2026-03-02T21:04:13","slug":"malefic-impermanence-review","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.angrymetalguy.com\/malefic-impermanence-review\/","title":{"rendered":"Malefic – Impermanence Review"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"A tabby cat is what you get when you let nature take its course. Nearly every stray is a tabby because, without selective breeding from human interference, cats just end up looking like that most of the time. Similarly, Atlanta’s Malefic <\/strong>feel to me what you’d get if you let the faster variants of extreme metal reach their natural conclusion. Playing a style that draws from thrash, black and death metal, Malefic <\/strong>formed in 2007 with the stated goal of modernizing black metal. In doing so, they’ve imbued in their slow-cooked debut Impermanence<\/em>, an intensity and drive befitting a genre-forwarding record. But is Impermanence <\/em>the cat’s meow, or did Malefic <\/strong>cough up a hairball?<\/p>\n

Like how tabbies are genetically diverse but visually similar, Malefic<\/strong>’s many ingredients blend into a kind of extreme metal slurry on Impermanence<\/em>, all present but difficult to identify individually. Sure, some riffs are more typically one thing than another, like the Testament<\/strong>-like thrash chops opening “In Darkest Dreams,” or the Dissection<\/strong>esque blackened trems on “Blood of the Throne,” or the Opeth<\/strong>ian deathly grooves of “It Haunts.” But taken as a whole, Impermanence <\/em>doesn’t lean towards one sub-genre over another. Instead, Malefic<\/strong>’s mutt-metal manifests into an off-kilter, volatile force of hostility, recalling heavily of the genre-blending approach Xoth<\/strong> take. Xoth<\/strong> are actually probably the best comparison to Malefic<\/strong>, as drummer Aaron Baumoel’s rasps and screams sound a lot like both of their vocal duo, and guitarists Jason Davila and Sam Williams’ solos follow the melodically rich, whammy-friendly stylings of Xoth<\/strong> (“Idiocracy”). Bolstered by a rhythm section of Baumoel and bassist Andy McGraw, who both know how to lay down some serious groove when needed (“Deserter”) and a dynamic mix, Impermanence <\/em>shows that those years of honing their style have paid off for Malefic<\/strong>. It’s a good sound!<\/p>\n

But what confuses me about Impermanence <\/em>is that it feels aimless in many places, but not because Malefic <\/strong>can’t edit. To the contrary, every song on Impermanence <\/em>is tight and focused, only running past five minutes on “It Haunts.”1<\/a><\/sup> Malefic <\/strong>also aren’t indulging in extraneous instrumentals or soloing, as songs like “Of Gods and Man” and “Disembodiment” showcase the band’s restraint within their buck-wild playing. The issue is that Impermanence <\/em>doesn’t stick with an idea long enough. “Blood of the Throne” and “Obsidian Earth” have, like, five riffs in their first minutes or so each; instead of expounding upon a few ideas, Malefic <\/strong>often churns through ideas before they’ve settled into something sticky. This pattern especially stinks when they land on something great and don’t develop it, like the swinging, discordant riff in the second verse(?) of “Echoes of Silence” or the guitar runs opening “Obsidian Earth.” Impermanence <\/em>sees a band on a mission, but maybe also a band in too much of a hurry.<\/p>\n

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What this amounts to is that Impermanence <\/em>possesses a sound I can’t say I’ve heard before, but also, confusingly, one that’s somewhat indistinct from other extreme metal albums. Malefic<\/strong>’s aforementioned style-soup is so dense with expansive inspirations and somewhat progressive tendencies (“Disembodiment,” “It Haunts”) that, besides some serious Xoth<\/strong>isms here and there, it adds up to something not exactly like the sum of all of their influences. But at the same time, Impermanence<\/em>’s loose structuring and lack of purposeful repetition hampers Malefic<\/strong>’s ability to craft lasting hooks. By and large, most songs start with some fanfare, rage for three-to-four minutes straight while Malefic <\/strong>tear through riffs with reckless abandon like a more evil, more succinct Trivium<\/strong> and end with little resolution. It can be very exciting and enjoyable in the moment, but I’m left with little to remember Impermanence <\/em>by the time it’s over.<\/p>\n

But there is nothing wrong with a tabby cat,2<\/a><\/sup> and there’s nothing wrong with Malefic<\/strong>. They’ve carved out a great sound for themselves that more purposeful songwriting could harness into a truly hog-wild time. But where Impermanence <\/em>excels in thrills, it lacks staying power, mostly in part to Malefic<\/strong>’s restless pursuit of riffs above all else. Fans of blackened thrash, blackened death, death thrash or bethrashened black death could do a lot worse than giving Impermanence <\/em>a spin, but it’s probably not the genre-shaking game changer the band wanted. There’s always the sophomore album, however…<\/p>\n