My appreciation for Lamb of God didn’t really take off until a very close friend of mine had me watch Killadelphia for the first time. Having survived many metal battlefields of my own, I found the material from the “Black Label” Wall of Death exceptionally fun. What’s more, watching LoG perform those songs live, I found the music clicked for me in a way it never had before, which led me back to those first three studio albums with renewed vigor and drool for the upcoming release of Sacrament.
Well, twenty years have passed since then, a period marked by no small amount of turmoil for the band, both inside and outside the recording studio, with my own attention and interest in their work shaken too. And because Saunders so graciously ceded his seniority this year, you don’t just get my lousy pun, but also my opinion on Lamb of God’s tenth release, Into Oblivion.
It doesn’t often happen that commercially thriving bands return from flights of progressive exploration to successfully tap into their foundational roots. However, since the inconsistent VII: Sturm und Drang, Lamb of God seem focused on recapturing some of that lightning in a bottle from their early efforts – every step from the promising 2020 Lamb of God to the crisp and visceral 2022 Omens, has led Richmond’s ragers here, Into Oblivion. Operating musically in a space free from the limits of agendas or trends, LoG write songs only for themselves. Although lyrically no less scorching, Into Oblivion serves as Blythe’s commentary on the ongoing erosion of the social contract here in the United States. The signature guitar sound of Mark Morton and Willie Adler welcomes us at the door, while the blend of chugs, thin leads and technical riffs of the opening title track is a good starting point for the rest of the album. Which immediately shifts into «Parasocial Christ», a thrashy barn burner that is one of the best songs Lamb of God have written in a decade and features one of Blythe’s most intense performances, who recorded all his vocals at the legendary Total Access studio in Redondo Beach.
It became increasingly obvious that Lamb of God wrote Into Oblivion for the stage. While listening, I could vividly picture the impending neck-snapping beneath the jerky sounds that songs like “Parasocial Christ” and “St. Catherine’s Wheel” would provoke as clearly as I imagined the swarms of brutality stomping their boots across the country, driven by the loud, rough rhythms of “The Killing Floor” and “Blunt Force Blues”. Much of Into Oblivion should satisfy longtime fans who longed for days gone by, and settle the argument that the rhythm section led by Art Cruz would suffer from Chris Adler’s departure. Lamb of God also found a way to introduce a satisfying amount of experimentation within the album’s strict confines, working without turning things into an overly intense bloat.
With a FAFO runtime just over 39 minutes, Into Oblivion is Lamb of God’s leanest album since 2003’s As the Palaces Burn. Even so, LoG managed to color some moments outside the lines. With an opening bass line from John Campbell unexpectedly soaked in reverb, “Sepsis” is a monstrous sludgefest that moves through verses where Blythe drops into a spoken-but-mostly-shouted hybrid tone – an improvement over his mostly awkward, straight spoken word – before plunging into a crushing riff that supports his chorus screams. This newly acquired bass-forward sludgeness manifests again on “A Thousand Years”, before giving way to a sexy riff full of slippery Southern swagger. Here, Blythe adds some grungy clean touches over spoken croaks that work within the song’s mood. «El Vacìo» represents the biggest departure, nearly reaching ballad level, as Blythe sings much-improved clean parts over Morton and Adler’s melancholy guitar lines, and then crawls into a dramatically tense chorus that gives me chills every time I hear it.
Not everything works on Into Oblivion —for one, the general cover art and the new logo aren’t all that impressive, and, although not terrible, I could live with or without the four-plus-minute “Bully”. Even so, I didn’t expect to like Into Oblivion this much. When I opened the top of it, I joked in the AMG dining room that it might threaten the safety bench. To which Steel immediately replied, “no!”. While the safety bench is fine, Into Oblivion earned its score and is possibly the best thing Lamb of God have done since the Wrath era.
Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: n/a | Format reviewed: Farging Label: Epic Records
Websites: LambofGod.com | Bandcamp | Releases Facebook worldwide: March 13, 2026
